Hunting the Sky
by TormentingAllLemmings
Summary: Two years after Bahamut is destroyed, a woman with a dark past concerning Balthier finds him once more, intent on killing him. Balthier refuses to reveal why she is after him, leaving Fran to try to understand her motives. BalthierOC
1. First Movement

Summary: Balthier/OC. Two years after Bahamut is destroyed, a woman with a dark past concerning Balthier finds him once more, intent on killing him. Balthier refuses to reveal why she is after him, leaving Fran to try to understand her motives.

Warning: Nothing yet.

Disclaimer: Don't own FFXII. Do own plot, OC, and anything else you don't recognize.

Well, first FFXII fic. I've had it in my head for a while, but was hesitant to post it. I have someone doing a pic of my OC, so that's why I tried to be a little sketchy with her clothing. Hopefully it won't be too long until I have an image to show you guys. I hope anyone who reads this likes it - if not, let me know! I tried hard not to make her MS, them OOC, or anything like that.

Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.

* * *

It was quiet in the streets of Bhujerba, as quiet as a mining town could be, and didn't suit Balthier at all. The sky pirate strode through the streets, Viera partner at his side, a frown marring his handsome face. 

"You are restless," Fran commented, and he glanced sideways at her with a shrug.

"It's damned boring," he said conversationally, gun strapped to his back as usual.

"It is quiet," she observed calmly. "I do not think that is a bad thing, however."

"I guess not – but I'd much rather have some excitement," Balthier replied, as they wandered Travica Way, heading for Cloudborne Row and the Cloudborne tavern.

"It seems we are about to get it," the Viera told him, gazing emotionlessly before them. Balthier stopped his talking and halted, catching notice of a person in front of them. The streets were almost empty, as the sun rose high and drove people either into their homes or back to work in the mines, and the person was hard to miss. It wore a white cloak, disguising most of his features, but as the wind picked up slightly as an airship passed overhead, the cloak blew aside, revealing slim legs wearing black boots that went up to the thighs, and had low heels.

"Well, hello there," Balthier greeted the person cheerfully, showing no signs of alarm. "And who might you be?"

"You seem to be doing well," the person replied, and although the voice was low, it was obviously female.

"Another scorned lover, Balthier?" Fran asked dryly, but he shook his head.

"I don't pick the dangerous ones – you know that," he objected, but the woman laughed suddenly.

"Or you do now," she corrected, not moving at all. "That's a wise move."

"She's from Archadia," Fran said quietly, both recognizing the accent well.

"Yes, yes, I can tell that, thank you," the man replied, a bit curtly, annoyed that his day in Bhujerba – however boring – was going to be cut so short by a bounty hunter. "A name would be nice," he called, but she shook her head.

"Now, that's not necessary, Balthier," she chided him. As she said his name a chill ran through his spine, but he was still unable to recognize her. "And I'm pleased to meet you, Fran," the woman added suddenly, turning slightly toward the Viera. "I understand you've kept Balthier from ending up dead, if not out of trouble."

"A pleasure," Fran replied politely, and Balthier groaned in irritation.

"I have things to be done, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get going," he informed her. "If you have no business with us, I suggest you move along."

"If I didn't have business with you, I wouldn't be here, of course," the stranger said calmly. "It's been a long time, Balthier." With this, she removed her cloak and let it drape behind her, where it was apparently attached to the back of her cream-colored belt. Her pants were black, and rested on her hips, while her shirt was a light silver color. A snug glove, matching her boots, covered her right arm, reaching almost to her shoulder, with the sleeve of the shirt tucked into the glove. Her shirt had a loose, ruffled collar, while black corset-like laces went down the front of her shirt, as well as either side of her breasts. The left arm was bare, with the sleeve loose and angled to her wrist. No skin showed between the shirt and pants, and both the tops of the boots and glove were turned down, and a cream color as well. Silver buckles studded her belt, and silver earrings were in her hair.

"Who is this woman, Balthier?" Fran demanded, noticing a narrow scabbard on either side of her hips. Balthier remained silent, as her eyes caught his.

"It's been a long time indeed, Rayya," he managed, trying to remain calm.

Her left eye, dark green, shone in amusement, while her straight, auburn hair covered most of the right side of her face.

"Glad you remember me," she said, and Fran's eyes narrowed when she noticed the woman's lips. The right corner was fused together by what seemed to be burn scars, and slight scars edged the left side of her face. Her hair moved in the breeze, the front reaching her collarbone while the back hung to her shoulder blades, revealing a glimpse of a black eyepatch over her right eye, the straps hidden in her hair.

"You are injured," the Viera began, but Rayya turned a sharp glance on her, growing angry in a second.

"And it is thanks to Balthier I am scarred so," she hissed, pulling her hair back to reveal the rest of her face. The right side of her face was covered in bad burn scars, and Fran noticed that the area on the left side of her face vaguely resembled an arm and hand, as if someone had put their arm in front to shield her face.

* * *

"I had no idea you lived," the sky pirate told her after a long, deadly pause, and she smiled. It was a pleasant smiled, not bitter at all, which only worried him more. 

"I knew that," she said, her voice almost cheerful. "I allowed you to think that, too. I realized that if you had cared at all, you wouldn't have left me, no matter what you thought. But, I had served my purpose – there was no need to put yourself out."

"I can tell you've trained well," he said casually, hands resting on hips. "Your stance is very good."

"A compliment? I'm flattered," Rayya returned, the smile never leaving her lips. "And yes, I have. These are my life," she added, drawing her weapons. They were narrow scimitars, slightly curved, and narrowed almost to a point at the tip.

"Those seem to be dangerous – you should probably put them away," Balthier suggested. "You could hurt yourself."

"I never have, Balthier," she shrugged, sliding them away. "However, I intend to prove a point to you."

"And that would be?" he prompted, his body tensing.

"I have no need of the bounty – I just want to kill you myself," she told him calmly, a grin playing her lips as she lunged. Balthier was startled at the speed of her attack, and barely had time to draw his gun, but Fran was ready and waiting for the woman to move. As quick as Rayya had become, she was no match for the movement of the Viera to block her, and halted her attack while jumping backwards to avoid the Weapon Master's slash of an arrowhead.

"Most impressive, Hume," Fran told her, standing in front of Balthier while the woman glared at them with open hostility. All casualness was gone from her demeanor, and her stance was that of a hunter, ready to strike again.

"I was hoping I was quick enough, but apparently I'm not," Rayya said, her calm voice eerie when matched with her eye. "Yet another woman to hide behind, Balthier? I can't say I'm surprised, though I thought a Viera would know better."

"I shield him because we fight together," Fran told her sternly, obviously angry. "Who are you to pass such judgment?"

"One of his victims," the woman replied, her gaze never leaving Balthier. She crouched slightly, her scimitars sticking out behind her as her knuckles whitened on the grip. Her cloak pooled behind her, looking like the back of a skirt, or a flowing tail, the stillness of the fabric only emphasizing her quicksilver reaction time to an opportunity to strike.

"I suggest you make no further moves," Balthier advised, moving to Fran's side. "I'd much rather not kill a woman, especially in the streets."

"And I suggest you not make any further suggestions, Balthier," Rayya said through clenched teeth. "I did not force myself to survive these eight years, and hunt you down, in order to talk!" She moved once more, this time much faster than before, surprising both defenders. Her silver swords flashed in the air like lightening before a tear appeared in his right sleeve, and a thin line of blood appeared.

"Impressive," the sky pirate managed, gathering his senses quickly as usual. Fran had moved further to side, and was staring at the woman in a way that would make the majority of enemies shiver. Rayya was paying no attention to the Viera, however – her attention was solely on Balthier.

"And again, I did not come here to talk," Rayya said curtly, moving once more. This time they were ready, though, and Fran had cast Protect on Balthier without the woman's noticing. Her swords bounced off the shield, and she landed on her feet as she skidded backward a few feet, her swords ringing from the impact.

"Thanks, Fran!" Balthier called with a grin, and the Viera only shook her head.

"I'm not done, bastard," Rayya growled. It was apparent she was quickly losing her former composure, something which could soon work in their favor. She crossed her swords over each other and muttered something under her breath before a silver and white glyph appeared underneath her feet, glowing brightly.

"A Quickening," Fran realized, narrowing her eyes. Balthier steadied himself for the attack, while Fran quickly cast Shell on them.

"Mercy!" Rayya cried, as the glyph surrounded her and fused into her sword. Balthier realized she was going to use her swords, which he saw were charged with Holy, and quickly tried to avoid her. He managed to dodge the full power of the blasts, but was knocked into a wall down the street, falling with blood trickling from a crack in his head.

Fran moved to him without a word, Cure in hand, expecting Rayya to take advantage of their weakness. However, the woman remained standing, her breasts heaving as she drew breath, and it was obvious she had used most, if not all, of her strength and Mist points with the Quickening.

"Are you all right?" she asked, after fixing most of his injuries.

"A little sore, but I'll survive," he said with a slight shrug, getting to his feet and moving towards Rayya. "Now that you've gotten that out of your system, I expect you'll want to retreat before I kill you?" he asked conversationally, but she glared at him.

"Go ahead," she challenged him weakly. "It doesn't matter." The words had barely escaped her lips before she collapsed, folding onto the stones with a 'thud'. Balthier remained staring down at her expressionlessly while Fran strode beside him.

"Do we finish her?" she asked, glancing at him curiously. She had no idea who the woman was, or what she might mean to Balthier, but waited for some hint of an answer.

"If you know the wolf is with the cockatrices, you can keep an eye on it," he said calmly. "We'll bring her with us." While Fran watched, keeping an eye on the woman in case she was faking, Balthier heaved her over his shoulder and headed towards the aerodome.

* * *

"Balthier, you prick," Rayya managed, wakening to find herself strapped down to a bed, her swords taken away and a shield over her to prevent casting. 

"That's not very nice," he reprimanded her, standing near the door. "I brought you on the _Strahl_ instead of leaving you in the streets of Bhujerba."

"I'd rather have been left," she growled, straining against the bonds for a moment before relaxing in momentary defeat.

"You put up such a fuss about the last time, I didn't think you would," he said lightly. "After all, I'd much rather not give you another reason to try to kill me."

"I'm going to one day," she promised though clenched teeth, wishing she could move away as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her and grinned down at her.

"And I'm sure you will," he agreed. "But I'm practically dead anyway – twenty-four, after all. I'm an old man."

"You won't drop soon enough for me," she informed him coldly, a year younger. He made a noise in his throat before turning his head as the door to the small cabin room opened, and Fran stopped in.

"We're almost there," she told him calmly, sparing only a brief glance for the woman.

"All right," he said agreeably, getting to his feet. "Sorry, Rayya, but you'll have to keep quiet," he informed her, and she opened her mouth to protest before Fran cast Sleep on her. "Let's go," he said, moving through the doorway, but Fran paused, her piercing gaze resting on the now-sleeping woman.

"She must have been pretty – when she was whole," the Viera observed. A creature of the Wood, taking joy in all life and beauty, she found a small part of herself mourning the lost beauty of the young woman before turning to wait for a reply. Balthier remained frozen for a few moments before continuing forward, without a single gesture.

"Most likely," he said calmly, his voice carefully empty. Fran shook her head and shut the door, locking it firmly just in case, renewing the Protect spell on them both.

* * *

"Thanks for the help," Balthier grinned, addressing Rikken on the Chivany Breakwater of Balfonheim Port. 

"No problem," the man nodded. "We're trying to do the best we can without Reddas, but it's hard going."

"You seem to be doing quite well, though," Fran commented, looking around the prosperous port town. "The people seem content, and there are many merchants and ships doing business with the port."

"Being so close to Archadia and the Naldoean Sea, we're one of the closest contacts for people to the Empire," Rikken agreed with a grin. Balthier offered him a hand, which the pirate eagerly took and pumped heartily. "Good to see you again, Balthier. If you ever feel like settling down, we've got some positions open here."

"Thanks, but no thanks, my friend," the sky pirate replied, shaking his head and withdrawing his hand. "I have my own way of doing things, and steady work like that doesn't amuse me."

"If you say so," the man shrugged, and turned to leave as the pair strode back into the _Strahl_'s hanger.

"Who is that woman, Balthier? Rayya?" Fran asked calmly, but her tone warned the man she wanted an answer.

"You can ask her, Fran," Balthier, his tone just as even, but the corners of his mouth turned down ever-so slightly and his eyes narrowed. "It must be a woman thing."

"Balthier…" the Viera began, but he disappeared into the bridge before she could say anything else. Frowning a bit as well, she strode after him, deciding she would press the issue later.

* * *

I like the line "Balthier, you prick." I don't know why - it's funny. Anyway, please review. 


	2. Second Movement

Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

Thanks for the reviews! And to answer kactuskat16's (I can't find your profile to message you...), I have played FXII, but not beaten it yet. I'm working on all the side quests before the final dungeon. Yep, I'm that far. And ShadowKitsune19, you have some weird friends - go you!

I'm glad the reception has been good to this story. I like Rayya - she's tougher than a lot of my characters, and her character is a lot more bitter than most of them as well. Interesting to write, believe me! And I love how she and Balthier toy with each other - they both know they're doing it, but won't stop because they think the other would have 'won'.

Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.

* * *

"What a shame – you haven't died of old age yet," Rayya sneered early the next morning – or late night, however you looked at it – still confined to the bed. Balthier sighed audibly, showing how put out he was because of her, and took a seat at the edge of the bed again. 

"At least I'm not a prick today," he said cheerfully, but she only glared at him.

"I'm keeping myself occupied thinking of some other words. Seeing as I can't do much else."

"I can't exactly let you run loose, now can I?" he pointed out, but she set her jaw stubbornly. They stared at each in silence before Balthier shrugged, and dug around in his pocket for something.

"Your organization skills still frighten me," she said dryly, curious despite herself.

"I still have it, see?" Balthier pointed out, dangling the ornament before her widened eyes. A small but intricate crest, almost like a coat-of-arms, hung off a sturdy silver chain, with pearls inlaid in the silver. "I don't wear it, though," he continued calmly, putting it back. "Don't want to lose it."

"Seeing how tight those pants are, they're much safer in a pocket," she agreed, but her tone was even icier than before. Balthier looked at her for a long moment, his eyes thoughtful, and she glared right back, neither blinking.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fran asked, calm as ever, opening the door.

"Not at all," the sky pirate told her with a grin, almost sounding relieved. "What's going on?" he pressed, getting to his feet.

"You failed to mention our destination," she reminded him, and Rayya narrowed her eyes at them both.

"So what were you doing all night?" she demanded, and Balthier shot a cocky grin her way. If looks could kill, there would be no way to revive the young man at that moment, but he ignored it with his usual composure.

"Resting in the jagd," he informed her, and her jaw dropped despite herself.

"Excuse me?" she managed. "The jagd? Ships can't fly in it!"

"We have a special device, thanks to Dr. Cid," Balthier told her, but his grin slid off his face when he saw her expression at the mention of his father. The blood completely drained from her face, and she almost appeared to shrink. "Well, I better go figure out where I feel like starting up trouble," he said with a false laughter, pushing past Fran in a rush to get out of the room. The Viera examined the young woman intently for a moment before striding up to her and leaning so their faces were even.

"What is the matter?" she asked softly, but Rayya only squeezed her eye shut and shook her head. Fran paused for a moment, and then rested her hand on the eyepatch, surprising the woman. "May I?" the Viera asked. Rayya frowned, obviously not liking it, but assuming Fran would do it anyway, she shrugged. Taking it as a 'yes', Fran lifted the eyepatch, and was surprised despite herself. The eye itself was completely intact, her eyebrow almost normal in appearance, but the scarring around the area was extremely heavy.

"I had someone cast Renew on it," Rayya said softly, noticing the Viera's wonderment. "I was blind. It healed the eye itself, but the rest can't be fixed."

"Why do you hide it?" Fran queried, but the young woman turned her head away with a small sigh. The Viera gazed at her for a bit longer before rising, placing the patch on the table beside the bed, and left the room without another word.

"Stupid prick of a pirate," Rayya muttered, almost in a whisper.

* * *

"I think I deserve to know what it is going on, Balthier," Fran announced, taking a seat next to him on the bridge. 

"About what, Fran?" he asked innocently, but she only rolled her eyes.

"Pathetic," she commented, before becoming serious. "About that woman – Rayya. She despises you, and I do not believe you are that fond of her yourself."

"Well, she _is_ trying to kill me. It does put a damper on our relationship," Balthier admitted, but his tone was only disguising a deeper feeling. Fran frowned at him sternly, and he sensed a lecture coming on. Surprisingly, the Viera didn't say a word, only leaned back and continued to watch him. "Fran, there's nothing to worry about."

"I highly doubt that, when there is a woman concerned," the Viera said lightly, but turned and said no more on the subject. Balthier grunted, folding his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Rayya woke later that morning, feeling much better than before, and then realized her eyepatch had been taken off. Looking around frantically, it was nowhere to be found, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

"_That ass of a pirate can't help himself, can he?"_ she thought spitefully, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to rest her feet on the floor before she even processed the fact that she could move. Pausing in surprise, she looked around, and set her jaw when she saw Balthier lounging against the wall next to the door. The man was smirking in self-satisfaction, her eyepatch twirling around his finger.

"Your eyes are much too pretty to be covered up with something like this," he commented, catching it in his palm and smoothly pocketing it. Rayya couldn't believe his audacity, and choked on her rage. Looking slightly nervous, Balthier straightened a bit and held his hands out in a peaceful gesture.

"Look, before you throttle me, Fran is the one who removed it," he reminded her. "Early this morning. You must have been really out of it. And I have to thank whoever fixed that eye of yours – they did the world a great service."

Rayya made a strangled sort of noise in her throat, turning red, and for a moment Balthier thought she was choking – until she threw herself at him in a rage.

"Bastard," she hissed, her arms pinned as he held them firmly above her head, looking down at her. She reached slightly above his shoulder, and hated having to tilt her head to look at him.

"That's not very creative," he said, in what actually sounded like genuine disappointment. "I was looking forward to what you could come up with. Ah well."

"Give it back," she spat, straining against his grip to no avail.

"I think not," Balthier replied calmly, holding her as easily as if she were a child. Sometimes appearances really were deceiving. "And you can ask Fran – she took it off, so don't start throwing a tantrum at me about it."

"I am _not_!" Rayya informed him coldly, pulling away from him sharply, and twisting her wrist in the process. Wincing, she hid her hands behind her back, her look daring him to try to inspect them.

"If you say so," he said mildly, indeed reaching for her arm.

* * *

He woke a few minutes later, finding himself on his back and Rayya sneering down at him, looking smug with satisfaction. 

"Please don't tell me you did what I think you did," he moaned, pride wounded almost beyond repair.

"Of course I did," she purred, another one of those sincere smiles flitting across her lips.

"_Why does she always seem to smile like that just as she's about to do something very bad?"_ Balthier wondered, despite the pain in the back of his head, and then became abruptly aware of a pain rather lower down. "You…" he managed, bravely trying to preserve his dignity and not clench his knees together.

"If you ever touch me again, I'll take the opportunity to slit your throat open when you're unconscious," Rayya informed him with another smile, this one very wide indeed. She had flipped him over her head with a grunt of effort, and had managed to knock him out with the blow. Afterwards, she had decided to make him suffer for the embarrassments he had forced upon her, and did her best to ensure there would never be a 'Balthier Jr.' running around.

"I'm touched you didn't earlier," he managed, trying desperately and barely succeeding not to squeak. She looked a bit disappointed when he stumbled to his feet a few moments later, having expected him to be down at least another ten minutes.

"I'm impressed," she admitted, her turn to use the phrase. "You can walk."

"A little," he nodded, gripping the table with knuckles white from the effort. "Thanks to you."

"It was the least I could do," she replied sweetly, and he suddenly realized her scimitars were once more in her possession.

"_Oh dear."_

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," she shrugged, noticing where his eyes were looking at. "Not yet, anyway. I'm having far too much fun abusing you. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of it," she added, but he grinned weakly at her, still trying to ignore the pain.

"Eight years?" he guessed, and she shook her head in wry amusement.

"It was a stupid thing to say," Rayya sighed, fingering the hilt of one scimitar with what seemed like longing while she gazed at him. "I'll have to think of something better next time."

"How about…I call you Miss Cactuar?" he suggested, and immediately regretted it when a silver blade was pressed against his throat. "Hey, watch the shirt!" he protested, seeing a tear begin in the neck. She snorted, and not in amusement, before withdrawing the weapon.

"If you ever say something like that again, I won't stop," she warned him calmly, taking a step back and observing him. Balthier suppressed a chuckle at her expression, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Never mind."

"If you knew I was alive, would you have tried to bring me with you?" she asked, suddenly and quite seriously, catching the sky pirate off-guard. He rocked on his feet for a second before regaining his balance, and stared back at her. When she realized he was trying to decide, a strange look crossed her face before she turned her back to him, head hanging slightly. He opened his mouth to apologize, but her quiet words cut off anything he might have said.

"Are you at least sorry?"

"Yes," he said, realizing that he was sincere, in that reply, at least. She nodded, as if thinking something over, before shrugging and heading towards the door, sparing a moment to glance at him.

"Still the same," she commented, but the words made Balthier's blood run cold, for reasons he chose not to dwell on. Striding after her quickly, lest Fran think her escaped and subdue her, the sky pirate took a moment to finger the crest in his pocket, and sighed slightly before appearing just at ease as ever.

* * *

"Humes are very strange creatures," Fran commented, eyeing the woman sideways with suspicion. Despite Balthier's assurances that he had released Rayya, the Viera sensed the young woman was even more determined to kill Balthier than before, and knew the sky pirate believed his enemy pacified for the time being. 

"_All you did was stoke the fire inside of her, Balthier,"_ she thought with a sigh, shaking her head to herself.

"All races are like that," Balthier shrugged, and glanced at her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing," she assured him, and then wrinkled her nose. "And I object to that – Humes are quite unique in their mannerisms."

"You don't see Humes as a whole walking around half-naked with rabbit ears," Rayya muttered, in one of the seats behind Balthier. She had stared at the back of his head for the better part of an hour, and only stopped to glare at Fran, who had convinced her she had taken the patch off.

"It's usually not a good idea to anger the co-pilot, Rayya," Balthier admonished her. "If you don't want to be dropped into Raithwall's tomb, I suggest you apologize."

If the woman had cat ears, they would have flattened in protest – as it was, she crossed her arms stubbornly and glared back defiantly.

"It is quite all right, Balthier," Fran said calmly. "We simply do not yet understand each other."

"That's for damn sure," Rayya muttered, and ignored the warning look Balthier shot her.

* * *

"_How in Zeromus' name did I end up like this?"_ she thought sourly, as they flew over the skies of Rabanastre, preparing to land in the aerodome. _"I want to **kill** this man, not travel with him and his Viera! Not listen to his meaningless words and false impressions…not remember,"_ she finished dejectedly inside her head, and looked rather depressed outside as well. 

"If you must kill someone, challenge a fighter to a duel in the Sandsea," Balthier suggested cheerfully, as Fran handled the intricate piloting to ensure they didn't die. "They're always spoiling for a fight. And there aren't any Imperials around, so no one's going to lock you up. Well, unless you make a mess of it," he amended, but decided not to say anything else when he saw the look he was receiving – surprisingly, from both women.

"_Who knew?"_ he muttered in his head, and shrugged as Fran finished the landing. Standing, he offered a hand to Rayya to help her up, unsure how long it had been since she had flown, but she almost ripped his hand off before stalking out, hands resting on scimitar hilts.

"She is a rather scary Hume," Fran commented, behind him. "I am glad they are not all like that."

"She's a unique one, all right," he agreed, and then paused, eyeing his partner in suspicion. "Wait, are you trying to tell me something?"

"Watch your back – you may find silver in it," the Viera cautioned, moving past him to leave the ship as well. Staring into space for a moment, carefully considering her words, Balthier nodded, having already known he had provoked Rayya to the point of violence once more.

* * *

Rayya sat by herself at the counter of the bar, crouched low over the first alcohol she had touched in years, and relishing the atmosphere. She hadn't stepped foot inside Rabanastre for at least three years, and the city had changed much in that period. She noticed Balthier flirting with a pretty woman, and her temper immediately flared up before she could stop herself. Clenching the glass so hard it cracked slightly, she slowly took a deep breath. 

"Another," she ordered, moving the empty glass towards one of the bartenders. He eyed her, noticing the hairline cut on her palm, but shrugged and obliged, not trying to start trouble in his bar.

"There you are," he said mildly. She took it and tipped her head back gratefully, welcoming the obliterating numbness. Unfortunately, she held her alcohol too well for her liking, and after her third hit she still wasn't even close to getting drunk.

"Hey, beautiful," a man greeted her with a grin, slinging an arm over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she waited approximately three seconds before flinging him over her shoulder and into the notice board behind her.

"Not a good idea," she hissed, noticing several of his friends approaching. Whirling around as one jumped her, she kicked him in the gut, and he fell to the ground with a grunt. Swiftly grabbing a liquor bottle and breaking it on a table, another man advanced toward her, the weapon held menacingly. Rayya only grinned at him cheerfully, beckoning him to come on.

* * *

"Balthier, you did this on purpose," Fran commented, following the pirate around as he slyly took several choice articles from their unconscious owners. 

"I heard Hazul was going to be in town," he said casually, straightening up only to see Rayya backing up, the bottle waved toward her face. Her hair covered most of her right side as usual, but it was swept aside as she dived, trying to avoid a wild swing. He paused when a narrow gash appeared on her right temple, from the broken bottle, and calmly drew his gun out.

"We may as well," the Viera sighed, as her partner strode into the midst determinedly.

Rayya pushed herself back to her feet with a mumbled curse, and yelped when someone suddenly dragged her to the side of the counter.

"Hey!" she protested, and then realized it was Balthier, gun pointed at the man with the bottle.

"And who're you?" the man demanded angrily, but Balthier only shrugged.

"I find it hard to believe you were raised without being told never to hit a lady – particularly with _that_," the young man added with distaste. "Ah well, I suppose there's nothing to be done about it now. If you'll all run along, I won't cause further injury."

"You haven't caused _any_ injury, you ass!" Rayya hissed at him, angry that he thought he should protect her _now_, and jumped when his gun suddenly went off.

"Now I have," Balthier replied with a saucy grin, as the man's arm hung limply by his side.

"My arm!" he howled, and glared at Balthier. "You…"

"The name's Balthier, not you," the sky pirate corrected, as Fran moved to the side of the attackers, bow and arrow in hand.

"W-wait – Balthier?" the man repeated nervously, backing up a little. "Never mind," he added, before heading out the door. Several men followed, and Balthier turned, twirling his gun around his fingers before getting knocked down.

"I was enjoying myself," the young woman informed him, having clocked him. "No one asked you to interfere."

"That bottle did," he objected, but she only snorted.

"Please, spare me."

"I believe we should leave, if we have no further business here," Fran interjected, striding between them as Balthier got back to his feet and retrieved his gun.

"Good idea, Fran," he agreed, casting an annoyed glance at the bleeding woman before shrugging and going out the door, whistling a tune.

"I'm fine," Rayya growled, avoiding the Viera's attempt to Cure her. "Another scar isn't going to hurt much."

* * *

I had to have a barfight scene. I like making things appear lighthearted in this story, but (I hope) that you can tell it has a darker side to everything. I try having Fran communicate that with her words and actions. Review, please? 


	3. Third Movement

Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

Okay, if this isn't already upped, I'm shooting the rating to M because of her mouth, and some future stuff. (No sex!) Anyway, I had a brainstorm for this, so here we go, a new chapter! Thank you, KactusKat and ShadowKitsune19 for your reviews - kept me hopeful that this story has a future after all.

Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.

* * *

"You're not still sulking about this afternoon, are you?" Balthier asked, perplexed. He turned around in the pilot seat to look at the young woman, but she only glared at him before twisting around stubbornly to avoid his gaze. Fran muttered something to him, but he ignored it and narrowed his eyes at Rayya. She had refused even a bandage for her cut, and the wound was thin and narrow on her face –when he could see, that is. 

"Balthier, are we going anywhere in particular?" Fran asked, pointedly keeping her gaze averted from the two Humes.

"Why? Have any ideas?" he replied, turning away from the silent woman with a slight huff. Rayya smirked at her reflection, unable to keep a straight face.

"_Hm. If he thinks I'm going to talk to him after that stunt, he can jump out of the _Strahl_, and be turned into Balthier-pancakes,"_ she thought, the latter idea amusing her to no small end. Chancing a glance at him, she managed to keep her glare on before turning around again, planning on remaining silent until she managed to get away again. _"And if he thinks I'm **staying**, then he's **really** insane. I wouldn't stay any longer if…if…he let me kill him,"_ she finished in frustration, growing antsy. She had become accustomed to traveling quite a lot in a short amount of time, but not with the same people for much more than a day. Especially not ones that kept her tied up and Silenced.

Shifting slightly in her seat, growing uncomfortable, she realized Balthier was staring at her again, and tried valiantly not to look.

She looked.

"Ah, I see you're wondering when we're going to land," he grinned, and she met him with an icy stare. "I see you've been practicing," he commented, brushing the glare off after a moment, but averted his eyes slightly. "Well, there's a tomb in Archadia that's supposed to have quite the rewards for those brave enough to enter."

"Balthier, we are arriving," Fran informed him crisply, and the ship jerked slightly as they entered the jagd. It felt unnatural to Rayya, being able to fly in air space that had been off-limits to all races for centuries, and she couldn't resist a small sigh of relief when they finally landed.

* * *

"Quite the sight, isn't it?" Balthier asked, a sweeping gesture indicating the temple. Rayya, her scimitars firmly on her hips, lagged a little behind, hating the heat and wondering how the other two were able to stand it. She noticed he had stopped just before walking into his back and took a few steps away from him, looking up at the structure. 

"And you're going to rob it," she said flatly, and he turned a smirk on her.

"_We're_ going to rob it," he corrected her, but she shook her head slightly.

"No – I'm going to take my frustrations out on some fiends. _You're_ the damned grave robber," she told him pointedly, and he looked like slightly crestfallen before Fran interrupted once again.

"We should be heading in, before too much time is wasted," the Viera reminded them, and Balthier nodded in agreement.

"Good point – let's go," he ordered, slinging his gun over his shoulder and striding up the stairs that led to the tomb of one of Archades' kings. Rayya wrinkled her nose distastefully, disliking the entire operation a great deal, but reminded herself she needed something for money once she left the pair. Resting her hands on the hilts of her weapons, looking forward to fighting some fiends, she followed them up to the Way Stone, where they were teleported into the tomb's depths.

* * *

"Damn it!" Rayya swore, her swords flashing as the Garuda swarmed the trio, who were heading out of the tomb after a relatively-peaceful raid on the dead. 

"Now we know why it was so quiet in the tomb," Fran commented, her bow sweeping around to hit another avian. Rayya dodged and rolled to the side, wincing as a rock jabbed her in the ribs, but continued her fighting smoothly, having endured much worse during her years of training. The Way Stone was within sight, and it was incredibly frustrating to be held back from escape.

"Enjoying yourself?" Balthier asked, taking out another Garuda with a 'bang'.

"Yes," she replied, gritting her teeth as she resisted the urge to slice his leg open, and jumped upright once more, slitting the belly of a Garuda as she did so. Quickly moving to avoid the inevitable mess that followed, she tore the wings of several others with a quick blast of Firaga and whirled around when Balthier grabbed her arm.

"Oh, stop being so prudish," he said, pulling her aside as Fran cast Flare, disposing of several Garuda instantaneously. Rayya bit her tongue, almost thanking the pirate for pulling her away in time, and instead side-stepped away from him, pointedly keeping a scimitar between them, point towards him.

"We should go," Fran told them calmly, striding past towards the Way Stone as the Garuda momentarily moved back, dazed by the Flare attack. Balthier quickly caught up to her and Rayya skirted around the perimeter suspiciously, not liking having to follow the two all the time. She had almost caught up to them and the Way Stone when an avian monster flew down from the heights of the ceiling towards her, its talons ready to rip her apart.

"Get back!" Balthier ordered, aiming his weapon at the Garuda-Egi, but Rayya was already moving forward, her swords glistening as an indigo-black glyph appeared beneath her feet. "What the hell is she doing?" he demanded, taking a step back as Rayya met the Garuda-Egi's talons with her scimitars, and shielded his eyes when the glyph seemed to explode.

"Midnight Sun!" the young woman shouted, and the pair watched her execute her third-level Quickening to perfection. The air around the area seemed to grow dark and thick, and wisps of black energy began to appear from the Mist. Gathering strength from them, Rayya drew the energy into a large sphere of darkness directly above the avian, and her swords flashed as she moved her hands in a blur, performing some kind of intricate gesture. Within seconds, the sphere began to leak the black wisps out around the Garuda-Egi and a glowing black shadow appeared from the sphere, a glistening claymore in its hands. It lunged towards the Garuda-Egi and the avian was sliced in half cleanly, the demon fading away once more as the Quickening was released.

"The others are gone," Fran realized, looking around and seeing no sign of the other Garudas. Glancing back, she saw Balthier crouched beside a panting Rayya, who looked as if she was trying to push him away. "She must have expended all her Mist to use that attack," the Viera murmured, watching intently as Rayya's hand clutched the hilt of a scimitar even more tightly than before, and the weapon jerked slightly towards Balthier before she went limp, the knowledge that she had passed out into the sky pirate's arms unknown for the moment.

"She's all right – just tired," Balthier said crisply, striding past Fran as he cradled the unconscious woman against him. His partner observed him with what looked like amusement before she nodded and activated the Way Stone for them, and breathed in the fresh air gratefully.

"I dislike being inside a tomb for so long," she said, as they headed towards the _Strahl_.

"At least we have some rather-fine items to barter," the young man pointed out with a grin, and she couldn't help but smile slightly in agreement.

"True."

* * *

"Oh, fuck me," Rayya growled, waking up in the bed she had been assigned to with a splitting headache, and quickly guessing what must have happened. She vaguely remembered trying to attack Balthier, but everything had gone black once she had moved her hand. 

"Such language – again," Balthier 'tsked', reclining in a chair with his arms draped over the back. "Feeling better?"

"Oh, go screw yourself," she hissed, utterly embarrassed and angry at herself for being so weak again.

"My, my, who _have_ you been hanging around with all these years?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. "I don't usually hear such foul language unless I'm in a tavern in Balfonheim – and even _then_…"

"Would you shut up?" she demanded, sitting up and groaned as her body threatened to topple over from the effort for a few minutes. Catching her balance, she remained still, eyes closed and hand on head. Balthier watched her for a few minutes before sitting down on the bed next to her, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"You don't look so good," he commented, moving her hair away from the cut. To his surprise, she neither moved nor tried to kill him, and he ran a thumb over the injury lightly. "I think the talons are poisoned."

"Oh well," she said flatly, having a raging headache and in no mood to argue.

"Well, we'll have to do something about that," Balthier said lightly, and cast Cure on the wound. It disappeared in the next instant, and he quickly drew his hand back when she shifted, lifting her head a little to look at him.

"How could you?" she asked, her voice thick. "What I did for you…and you left me there to die…and then now act like you care about me…get away from me," she ordered hoarsely, dipping her head back down. Distressed, Balthier didn't argue, but rose to his feet and headed for the door. He paused to look back at her, realizing she was crying, and frowned before leaving silently, shutting the door behind him softly. Her words had caused memories he had buried long ago to surface, and the images that flashed behind his eyes caused him to shake his head in an effort to get rid of them.

"Are you all right?" Fran asked in concern, coming from the washroom.

"I'm fine, Fran," he said shortly, moving towards the bridge. With her sensitive ears, the Viera heard the young woman's cries easily, and narrowed her eyes at her partner's back.

"_Balthier…this cannot go on for much longer,"_ she told him mentally, wondering what was going to happen next.

* * *

"_Damn girl,"_ Balthier growled in his head, having stared into empty sky for the better part of an hour. _"Fran was right – I never should have brought her with us. What was I thinking? As soon as I can, we'll have to ditch her somewhere…"_

"Balthier."

A voice shook him out of his reverie abruptly, and he whirled around in the seat to find a calm-looking Rayya staring down at him.

"Yes?" he asked tensely, and she glanced at the sky before returning his emotionless gaze tenfold.

"Wherever we stop next, I'm staying," she told him flatly. "If I could kill you, I'd have done it. I have plenty of time to practice and get better, to beat both of you, and I'll do it."

"Glad to hear you're that determined," he said dryly, turning back around. "Sounds fine to me. What about Jahara? We're close enough to that."

"Chocobo travel is preferable," she said coolly, her back now facing his. "I'll leave when the ship is down."

"All right," the sky pirate said calmly, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering mechanism.

* * *

"Of course the lady may use a Chocobo," the Garif warrior assured her, glancing over at Balthier and Fran, who were busy trading with another Garif a few feet off. Balthier was trying not to look interesting in the conversation between Rayya and the warrior, but he was failing miserably in a short amount of time. "Will you be needing more?" he asked, but she shook her head sharply. 

"No, thank you," she said curtly, biting her tongue for being rude to the gentle warrior. "My apologies – I'm in a bit of a hurry," she said by way of excuse, and he nodded.

"It is all right. Please, have a safe journey," he told her, and she smiled at his kindness.

"Thank you again. I'll do my best – please give my regards to your chief," she said, not entirely sure how the hierarchy of the Garif worked. He nodded, however, and she assumed she hadn't made a social blunder with the humanoid race. Sighing in relief as she turned away, Rayya felt Balthier's eyes on her, and rolled her shoulders uncomfortably.

"_If he keeps staring, I'm going to decapitate him,"_ she vowed, her fingers itching to hold her weapons. Keeping her back straight, Rayya headed towards the Chocobo stall, where an odd Moogle – odder than most – greeted her happily, more than pleased to provide a bird for her. Petting the beak of the one she had been given, Rayya grinned at seeing the intelligent look in the animal's eyes, disliking using anything that didn't seem to have a mind of its own.

"So, where will you be heading?" a voice asked smoothly, and she didn't even turn to acknowledge him.

"None of you business," Rayya hissed, not wanting to be rude in front of the pleasant Garif.

"It couldn't hurt to ask," Balthier replied with an innocent shrug, but blinked in surprise when he found a blade pressed against his throat.

"Oh, it could, trust me," she said quietly, replacing her weapon with such speed that the Garif had taken no notice that she had drawn it at all.

"I suppose it could, at that," the pirate admitted, rubbing his neck nervously. "Fran and I discovered a few pieces missing. Know where they went?"

"I'm sure you left them on the ship," Rayya said calmly, having the missing articles hidden beneath her cloak, which she had kept off and hanging as cover.

"I'm sure I did," he said dryly, not about to point out he knew she had taken them.

"I'll wish you safe travels, since I wouldn't want anyone else to kill you first," the woman said with a sincere smile, the one that worried Balthier the most, as she swung into the saddle easily. "So, I'm sure we'll meet again. You had better wish that it isn't soon."

"The longer it is, the better you'll get – so I hope it's very soon indeed," Balthier corrected her with a flirtatious smirk, receiving a narrowed glare for his trouble.

"I'm sure you can keep yourself occupied until we see each other again," Rayya said coldly, and he noticed her hand glowing slightly blue with a Blizzaga spell.

"Have fun!" Balthier grinned, smacking the Chocobo on the rump and sending it running off. To his slight disappointment, Rayya didn't lose her balance in the slightest and merely moved with the bird, apparently having anticipated that action.

"How long?" Fran asked from the side, and he shrugged.

"I don't know."

* * *

"Mmm…sounds like a challenge," Rayya thought to herself, crouched over a letter she had received a week after leaving the pirates. A well-placed scimitar ensured she had the table in the Cloudborne to herself, a corner table well out of the way of the regular traffic in the tavern. She found it ironic she had returned to the sky-city, but job-hunting had taken her several places during the time she had left. Scanning the paper for what seemed to be the hundredth time, she narrowed her eyes and fisted it slightly, unsure of what to do for the first time in many years. 

"Do I dare?" she asked quietly, not doubting her skills in the least. She had no loyalties to any of the ruling nations in Ivalice, that was for certain, so that aspect of the offer didn't bother her at all.

"I can't believe Lareesh gave them my name," Rayya murmured, memories of her trainer – one of her longest companions ever – floating around in her head. Closing her eyes, she considered her options, and the consequences of the available choices. Staring at the page, she read it again, slowly.

"_**Rayya,**_

_**Lareesh has named you has a reliable contact, and skilled warrior. Dalmasca is in need of reform, and your trainer suggested that you would capable of performing a delicate task we have in mind. If you are interested, destroy this paper and meet us in the Northern Skirts of the Mosphoran Highwaste. If you choose to decline our offer, expect a visitor in three days."**_

"They'll try to kill me if I refuse – and keep trying," she told herself, able to read between the lines quite precisely. "And that will be a bother – too much of one," she frowned, annoyed at her trainer for putting her in such a position. "But…this would certainly prove interesting," she mused, propping her chin in her palm. "I suppose it won't do any harm," she decided, getting to her feet and destroying the small piece of paper with a Fire spell. Watching the ashes blow away on the breeze, she stared moodily at the sky for a long moment before moving away, having some business to complete along the way to the Highwaste.

* * *

"There is no way any of you are going to return to power as long as I am Queen," Ashe told the trio sternly, fixing the leader with a hard stare. "I know of the atrocities you committed while Archadia held power in my land, and it shall not happen again." 

"Atrocities? Milady, trading with foreign powers during a time of occupation is hardly…" the leader began to protest, but she raised her brow.

"I am hardly referring to that, Mahavir," the Queen said dryly, ending all arguments. "Now, remove yourselves from my sight before I have my guards attend to you," she ordered, raising her hand slightly.

"Of course, Milady," Mahavir sneered, the three not bothering to bow as they strode from the audience chamber. "You might want to watch how you treat certain people, though," he added, and glanced back at the woman when two guards suddenly blocked their exit.

"Was that a threat, Mahavir?" Ashe asked, her voice a deadly calm.

"Of course not, Milady. Merely a word of advice from a loyal subject of _Dalmasca_," he assured her, stressing the last word slightly. Narrowing her eyes, Ashe waved her hand, and the guards stepped to the side to allow the three men passage.

* * *

"Balthier, you are rather cranky," Fran commented dryly, glancing at her sullen partner. "Perhaps you need a nap?" 

"I wish you hadn't picked up on those phrases, Fran," he groaned, beginning to grow tired of the jokes. "I'm fine – I wish there was some action, though," he added, and she smiled.

"Perhaps your wish will be granted sooner than expected," she said, gesturing to the sky in front of them. "A Dalmascan airship wishes to contact us."

"I wonder what for?" the pirate wondered, sitting up a little straighter. "Well, may as well see what they have to say, eh, Fran?"

* * *

"How much?" Balthier asked calmly, once the messenger had finished explaining his reason for contacting the two pirates. 

"Is that all you can say?" the man spluttered, utterly dumbfounded. "I have just told you of a request from Queen Ashe herself, and all you ask about is _money_?"

"Money makes the world go 'round, my friend," the pirate informed the man. "And besides, these kinds of jobs don't sit well with me, not knowing what kind of enemy one could face. It had better be a lot."

"She sent this note," the messenger said grudgingly, handing the sky pirate a note. Balthier took it and read it with interest, handing it over to Fran once he was done.

"Rather interesting, isn't it?" he asked, waiting for her opinion and completely ignoring the offend man in front of him, who was turning redder with each moment.

"I think we should consider it, Balthier," the Viera said quietly. Knowing where his partner stood on the issue, Balthier nodded and crumpled the paper casually, tossing it in a basket for litter.

"All right, little man, we'll go with you and speak to the Queen," he decided, turning away. "We'll follow you."

* * *

Nope, still won't tell what happened between Rayya and Balthier in the past - not yet. Hope this was good. Please review. 


	4. Fourth Movement

Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

Thanks, ShadowKitsune19 and KactusKat16, for your review. And KK16, you're absolutely right. (wink) Next chapter I'm going to reveal what happened between Rayya and Balthier in the past, so review and I'll update. I would've updated sooner, but was having problems. Stupid site.

Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.

* * *

Rayya let the chocobo loose as she arrived at the Northern Skirts, and looked around curiously. All fiends had been wiped out, and she assumed it had been whoever had sent her the note. 

"Us," she repeated quietly, well-aware that she might have to face multiple enemies. Gripping her scimitars, she pulled her cloak over her face and strode forward, glancing at the ruins for a moment before continuing her pacing, assuring herself no vipers – or enemies of the Hume kind – were going to show themselves. Satisfied at last, she remained still, waiting for her contactor to show himself, or themselves.

"I'm pleased you decided to come," a man said pleasantly, walking up to her from near the ruins she had passed. Rayya whirled around, tense at being caught off-guard, but he only smiled at her. "We have our ways of remaining hidden," he informed her, gesturing to the side of the ruins. Narrowing her eyes, which were hidden beneath the shadows of her cloak, Rayya took a cautious step forward, seeing a narrow gap in the rock.

"A hideout," she said flatly, wondering how she could have missed it.

"Using the same cloaking devices airships use," the man told her. "Now, Lareesh said that if you came, we could trust you, so please come this way," he continued, watching her with equal alertness as they approached the ruins. Taller than the man by almost a head, Rayya sensed that he was a killer and decided to take no chances, drawing her scimitar as she followed him down the pathway that made her feel constrained.

"There's no need to be so violent," another person's voice said dryly, and she remained silent as they entered a larger room, apparently carven out of the rock itself. Several people were there, all looking like pirates and thieves, except for three men – the one whom had met her, and two others.

"Mahavir," Rayya greeted him coldly, recognizing the man who had been in power during the Imperial invasion of Dalmasca. "I'm hardly surprised to see you."

"Rayya, Lareesh himself has aided us many times," the tall man said, bowing to her with a flourish. His brown hair was long and in a ponytail, and his dark eyes and smooth face belied a cunning mind and vicious instinct to kill.

"I came because having your men after me would be a great bother," she said curtly, not moving an inch. "What do you want? And who are these two?" she added, turning to look at the other two sharply. The short man, balding and a little pudgy, wore fine silk clothing, the only one who had any finery on him, and had a greasy look in his gray eyes she didn't like. The other, about her height and on the thin side, had black hair with gray sideburns, blue eyes, and a claymore strapped to his back.

"This is Iosif, and Ghazi," Mahavir introduced them, gesturing first to the short one, and then the thin one.

"Also men who held power under the Imperial government," Rayya said snidely, not bothering to hide her disgust. "Cowards, all of you – hiding in a rock in the Highwaste." Even before she had finished her sentence, a nervous-looking man had lunged at her, dagger readied in his fist. It happened too fast for the average person to see, and they were amazed to see the man dead on Rayya's other side, her scimitar hanging from her arm casually.

"Impressive – just as Lareesh promised," Mahavir praised her, but she glared at him, having only moved her arm to slay the man.

"And impatient," she said. "Tell me what you want of me."

"We want, as I said in the letter, to reform Dalmasca," he began smoothly, and she snorted.

"With you in power, of course."

"Of course," he agreed, hardly appearing annoyed at her interruption. "However, with the Queen, there is hardly a foothold for us to grab onto. We need to remove any obstacles before we can begin the machine of reform."

"You want the Queen assassinated," Rayya said flatly, having already guessed what they wanted her for. "And you want me to do it?"

"Yes," Ghazi said suddenly, taking a step forward confidently.

"What makes you think I care to do such a thing?" she asked curiously, keeping her eye on the men suspiciously.

"One can hardly think you have love for any kind of power," Mahavir began, but she interrupted him with a hiss.

"What do you know of that?" she demanded, and he paused for a moment before smiling, a sign of peace.

"Not much," he assured her, but the woman kept her glare focused on him. "However, you are extremely skilled."

"And why would I take this offer?" Rayya prodded. "So far, I've no incentive."

"Will this do?" Iosif asked dryly, as a large sack, full of what she could only assume was gil, was slammed onto the table. "There is over five-hundred thousand gil in that sack."

"Quite a sum."

"Enough for a Queen," Mahavir said with a small smirk, thinking his victory was assured. His jaw almost dropped when she turned back to him and shook her head.

"Money is not a good enough reason," she informed them. "I am _not_ some hired assassin, a killer who works for whoever is the highest bidder. Not for this."

"What about that pirate, Balthier?" he called after her, as she turned to leave. Seeing her stiffen, he continued. "It's well known you're hunting him. Rumor is that the Queen has requested him as a bodyguard. This will be your chance to slay him, with our help."

"You think to offer me a _boon_?" Rayya demanded coldly, moving around so fast her cloak barely shifted. "You think I require assistance in killing him? And you will _offer_ me a chance to slay him? How generous," she finished, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Of course you need our help – we are the only ones skilled enough that you'll find willing to help," Mahavir informed her, and pointed at her when she took an angry step forward. "And that is the reason why. I'm surprised Lareesh didn't beat it out of you – your anger, your rage. It certainly adds to your skill, but your focus is lost – the rage towards the pirate consumes you. And _that_ is why you need our help," he said, and she stared at him, surprised.

"And how would _you_ help?"

"Keeping you focused," he shrugged. "You are more than welcome to slay him yourself – we have no interest in any bounties. But my men can keep you from losing your focus, keep you from moving out of control."

"To baby-sit me and ensure I complete your mission," she said dryly, and he nodded.

"Of course. And it will be part of our payment – the opportunity and means to kill him," he added, and she narrowed her eyes.

"So, that's it?"

"Yes."

Rayya remained silent, hiding her anxiety with calm breathing, knowing any man worth his weight in fighting would realize the basic exercises anyway. Possibilities – new ones, ones she hadn't considered on her way there – complicated what she thought would be an easy decision, and several long minutes passed in quiet, as the men waited for her to speak. Finally, she fixed her gaze on Mahavir and stared at him.

"When do we strike?"

* * *

"So, you have reason to believe these men will try to attack you?" Fran asked, as Ashe finished her story to the partners.

"Yes, I do. Either a violent rebellion or an assassination is their way," the Queen said with a firm nod. "I thought I would ask you two before anyone else – there will be a generous payment of course," she added, for Balthier's benefit.

"Hmm…" he murmured, considering the idea. "An interesting offer, Milady. What makes you so certain?"

"They are not men to be trifled with," she informed him curtly, handing him some papers. "This is only a part of their past – they are not honorable men."

"It certainly seems so," Balthier whistled, a bit impressed at their record. "I can see why you'd be worried. Any idea who we'd be fighting?" he asked, his way of announcing he would take the job.

"Unfortunately, no," she replied, shaking her head. "Mahavir and Iosif are not the kind to come themselves, but I think it possible Ghazi will come in person."

"Interesting," Balthier admitted. "They hardly seem the type to…but then again, power corrupts," he sighed. "All right, when do you think they'll strike?"

"As soon as they have an opportunity," Ashe said. "I will send for my chief guardsman, Priam, to speak to you about security details. I'll leave the rest to you, Balthier."

"Of course, Milady," he agreed, bowing slightly in amusement.

* * *

"Are you positive this is the right way?" Rayya demanded, her cloak about her, as the small assassination group made their way through the sewers up toward the palace, using one of several passages that were known to still be in use.

"Getting cold feet, are we?" Ghazi asked coldly, having volunteered to lead the group. Rayya distrusted him above all the others, not knowing much about him, but recognizing a killer when she saw one.

"We've been walking for over an hour," she hissed back, eyes glowing in the torchlight.

"We're here," another man whispered, hand resting on a narrow gate that led to a set of stairs leading up. The tall man shot Rayya a smug look before pushing the man aside, opening the gate easily with a lockpick and leading the five-member team up into palace territory.

Rayya took another sharp look at the men she was working with – besides her and Ghazi, there was a thief called Arik, an archer whose name she didn't know, and an armored sword-wielder she had heard called Harper. Glaring back at the archer, whose gaze she caught, her hands rested tensely on her weapons, ready for any kind of trouble, from guards or the group she was with. Her entire body was ready to attack at a second's notice, and her finger twitched spasmodically on her hilt for a moment before she took a breath to calm herself.

"Scared?" Ghazi asked dryly, as they reached another doorway.

"Hardly," she replied curtly, and realized it was true. Anxious, perhaps, and even excited – but not scared. Not ever scared.

"Good," he said sharply, and flung the door open.

"So much for discretion," Arik muttered, slipping into the shadows the candlelight created as guards rushed towards them. The archer took a spot behind the group, each arrow finding a target with deadly precision, while Ghazi and Harper waded into battle.

"Barbarians," Rayya sniffed, never having had much use for unwieldy weapons like claymores and longswords. Unsheathing her own deathbringers of choice, she smiled calmly as several armored men charged her, weapons drawn. The young woman moved swiftly and easily, like water flowing from between one's fingers, and the men were dead in moments.

"Let's get a move on," Ghazi ordered, and took off down another hall without another word. The group muttered in disapproval – all but the eager Harper, but nonetheless followed through with the attack as well. Rayya remained in the back, near the archer, not out of fear, but for an opportunity to strike unseen. And if Balthier was anywhere in the palace, she was determined to find him, even if she had to do it on her own after all.

* * *

"They're here," Balthier commented with calm, Fran at his side. The men that had been assigned to them appeared grim, some shifting around nervously, but Balthier only swung his gun up on his shoulder expectantly.

"Five," Fran informed them, with her sharp hearing. "Balthier, I believe that –"

"No time!" a man yelled, as the door was broken down. Two men charged at the group with abandon, while arrows flew over their heads and daggers seemed to be summoned from the shadows.

"Interesting group," the pirate commented, cool even in an attack, and easily dodged the daggers. Aiming his weapon, he blasted away the thief with ease, smirking a bit. "Not too difficult…though…" he began, but trailed off when two familiar weapons flashed in front of his face. "Damn it, do you always have to follow me?" he asked complainingly, jumping backwards to avoid Rayya's lunge.

"Of course," she replied with a smile, pausing for a moment. Her eyes glanced back towards the battle, but instantly returned to her prey. "What else have I lived for?"

"So, you're here to kill the Queen, eh?"

"No – to kill you," she informed him. "This opportunity just happened to present itself, that's all."

"How nice for you," Balthier returned, appearing reluctant to aim his weapon at her. "Do we have to do it here? It's so messy and all."

"Better than never," Rayya shot back, moving forward again frightening speed. Balthier's eyes widened when he lost sight of her, knowing every second was a deadly gamble in her favor. Swiftly moving to the side, he narrowly missed being skewered, receiving a nick in his arm instead.

"You've improved," he complimented her, wincing a little. Rayya stepped closer, her cloak now down, and only gazed at him silently, as if she was measuring him up for something. Suddenly, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she whirled around as Ghazi attacked, claymore swinging.

"He's mine!" she shouted, deflecting his attack with some effort.

"You're not getting the job done!" he spat, and Fran yelled from where she had taken down the opposing archer.

"The other one got away!"

"Go after him!" Balthier urged, keeping his gaze on Ghazi. "I'll be fine!"

Fran eyed him for a moment before taking off, spells already forming in her hand.

"Very brave, pirate," Ghazi told him, seeming to be both amused and impressed. "With two enemies at your flanks."

"Get away from him," Rayya hissed, seeing the claymore shift slightly.

"You have a job to do – do it!" he ordered, and she whirled around to face Balthier angrily. Her scimitars went up in the air – and then crossed over each other as she countered another swing by Ghazi.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, knees bent slightly.

"Following my orders," he replied calmly. "You can't do your job – you're no longer needed."

"The hell I'll let you kill me!" she shouted, and lunged blindly at the swordsman. Balthier winced the flat of his weapon connected with her side, sending her flying across the room.

"That temper will get you killed – you were warned," Ghazi reprimanded her, and turned to Balthier in disapproval. "Now for you, young man."

"Come on," Balthier challenged cockily, gun at the ready. He knew the man was too quick to be hit, and that the claymore would destroy the gun easily, but decided to try a last-ditch effort, planning to leap out the nearby window at the last second. Ghazi took a moment to size up the pirate before snorting, and shifting into an attack stance.

"You'll regret those words," he promised the pirate, before lunging. Balthier went to move, but realized the man had anticipated his leap and gotten in-between Balthier and window. His eyes widened as the claymore descended, fully expecting to be sliced in half by the monstrous weapon, and grunted as something was shoved into his gut.

"Stupid girl," Ghazi said in irritation, before seeing Rayya's two scimitars sticking out of his abdomen. Grunting, he tried to say something else, or move, but he only slumped to the ground helplessly, blood dribbling out of his mouth as he hit the floor facedown.

"Rayya!" Balthier realized, looking into his lap. He had landed backwards, and the young woman was sprawled over him, having taken the blow for him. Her back was sliced open, blood pouring out onto Balthier and the floor, and her breasts were heaving as she tried to get air into her lungs. "You stupid, ignorant little girl!" Balthier groaned, shifting her slightly to see her face. Her eyes were half-closed and dark, while her face and lips were white from loss of blood.

"Couldn't let you...die," she managed thickly, meeting his agonized expression. "That's…a new…look…"

"Balthier, the other man is –" Fran stopped when she saw the scene before her, and stiffened when she realized there were tears in her partner's eyes. "Balthier, let me –"

"I'll do it," he interrupted, his voice thick as well. "Help me hold her, Fran. This wound is pretty nasty."

The Viera silently strode over and took the girl from Balthier, holding her as the pirate cast a Curaga spell on her, fixing most of the damage. They remained still for several moments, until Fran looked at him wisely.

"She took the blow for you," she stated. "Why, Balthier?"

* * *

There ya go! Shorter than some, but (I hope) packed with action. Please review.


	5. Fifth Movement

Summary; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

Warning: Some more language, gore, same 'ol. And things get a lot more grim. There's a reason it's M, people!

Ah, KactusKat, you're too sharp for a reader! I congratulate you. And GrimNightingale and LisLuv05, you guys are awesome for reviewing the last chapter. (I love you all, of course!) Now, we get to the meat of the story - why she hates him. Not action, exactly, but lots of mental progress. And Gabranth shows up - cameo for those who tell me where.

Please review. Comments, ideas, suggestions, and helpful criticism welcome.

* * *

It hadn't been easy for them to reach the main gates, but the pair had done well in their training throughout the years, and a gunshot echoed through the halls as another Imperial fell.

"Let's go," he said curtly, and the girl beside him nodded.

"They're getting closer," she told him, and whirled around as the gates slammed shut, trapping them in the circular hall. "Damn it!"

"The windows," he ordered, edging to the side. She followed his lead, but they jumped apart when a white blast scorched the marbled floor. "Ah, Father."

"I'm impressed, Ffamran," Cidolfus praised his offspring, standing on the other side of the room with guards flanking him. A white crystal was in his hand, and the two escapees' eyes widened when they saw the manufactured nethicite glow brightly.

"You're actually using that?" the girl asked incredulously. "That thing's unstable!"

"Erudara, I can't say I'm surprised you're here," the man informed her, noticing her sword. "But you can hardly wield that well enough to be a threat to me."

"I told you I wasn't going to stay and be a Judge any longer," Ffamran said defiantly, eyes meeting with Erudara's a bit nervously, but unblinkingly. "You can't keep me here any longer, Father."

"You will either stay here, or I will destroy you," Cidolfus told him calmly. "A Judge is not allowed to leave – alive." The father and son faced off for several tense moments, the young girl standing stiffly to the side, eyes darting between the pair anxiously. When it was obvious the unwilling Judge wasn't going to give in and return to the Imperials, Cidolfus raised the nethicite towards his son, the crystal glowing ever brighter as it gathered brighter.

"Ffamran!" Erudara shrieked, as the young man was too surprised to move when the blast headed his way. It happened in mere seconds, but to the people in the room hours seemed to pass before the light faded and they were able to see clearly. The girl was laying face-down on the floor, blood splattered on the walls and her flesh burned away from her body, while the doctor's son had disappeared in the heat of the moment.

"Hm. Dispose of her," Cidolfus ordered, turning his back without checking to make sure whether she was alive or not. The three guards followed him, the subordinate left to deal with the limp girl, and the man stalked over to her and crouched down next to her, feeling for a pulse.

"Surprising," he said in a thick accent. "You're alive. I can't just leave you here," he decided, scooping her up and calmly exiting the grounds, heading for the nearest doctor. He returned to his post shortly afterward, only reporting that the girl would trouble the Imperials no longer. Shortly after, he was raised to the rank of Judge, and forgot all about the girl, becoming concerned with his guardianship of the young Prince Larsa and hunting his brother.

* * *

Fran remained silent for a long time after Balthier had given her his side of the story, ending with the fact that he had escaped, too frightened to remain and grab Erudara. They were aboard the _Strahl_ once more, Rayya in a bed with Balthier seated next to her, head hanging in shame.

"That is how she received those scars – protecting you?" she checked, and he nodded. Peering closely at the woman's face, the Viera made a noise in her throat. "She tried to shield herself from the blast as well – that is why her left side is fairly intact. Her arm was up."

"I'm not sure what happened," Balthier admitted. "It was so bright and hot at that moment, and something knocked me off my feet. I thought it had been the nethicite, but I looked and saw her on the ground…I became so terrified of that power, I fled."

"You do not require my forgiveness, Balthier," Fran told him quietly, sensing that was what he wished. "You did nothing to me. I think you need to have that conversation with Rayya, when she is well."

"She's going to live?" he asked in surprise, and she nodded.

"Of course – you healed her quite well," she said. "She merely requires rest and some more treatment to fully recover. That was quite a blow. The Queen is safe, by the way – the entire group was killed."

"At least that went right," Balthier sighed. "I never expected her to be there, Fran."

"I did not either," the Viera agreed calmly. "I heard lighter footsteps as they approached, and thought a woman might be among them – but there are many women mercenaries as well. Fate was against us this time."

"Or with us. Who knows?" the pirate asked moodily, getting up and stalking towards the door. "I'm getting some sleep."

* * *

Rayya didn't regain consciousness until several days later, and opened her eyes painfully to see red Viera eyes watching her carefully. She attempted to sit up, but couldn't help a cry of pain as she fell back onto the mattress.

"You were gravely injured," Fran told her calmly, as the young woman stared at the ceiling emotionlessly. "It is thanks to Balthier that you did not die from your wounds."

"That's wonderful," the woman said hoarsely, wincing at the effort.

"Drink this," the Viera ordered, holding a potion to Rayya's lips. The invalid grimaced, but after a moment obediently allowed Fran to help her drink it down, about to die before admitting it did indeed help her pain, however slightly.

"Why did you shield him again?" Fran asked, and Rayya's eyes widened when she realized Balthier had told his partner about his previous involvement with Rayya. The young woman turned her head away, jaw set, but Fran was not about to give up so easily this time. "He is greatly worried for you – and is ashamed of himself for eight years ago."

"Good," Rayya snapped, and swallowed convulsively. "I told him…I wasn't going to let someone else…kill him," she managed angrily, clearing her throat several times. "That's all."

"If you say so," the female said calmly, getting her feet, her curiosity satisfied and suspicions confirmed. "You need much more rest before you will be able to get up from that bed," she informed the woman, glancing over her shoulder as her hand rested on the door. "I suggest you sleep."

Rayya muttered something under her breath as the Viera left the room, and if she had the strength, she would have sliced her own throat then and there. Her body had moved without warning her, and Rayya was enraged that she had lost an opportunity to kill Balthier yet again. And was now once more in his care, on an apparent whim.

"_Enough is enough,"_ Rayya told herself sternly. _"Either he dies, or you die. I can't do this any longer."

* * *

_

"How is she?" the pirate asked casually, doing his best to poorly disguise his concern. Fran raised an eyebrow at him in amusement before lowering herself in a seat in the bridge, inspecting the ship's controls for a moment before returning his penetrating gaze.

"She is awake," she told him. "And very angry. I told her to sleep, but I doubt she will for quite some time."

"I wish I knew why…" Balthier trailed off in frustration, his brow knitting together.

"It is for her to understand," Fran said calmly, knowing completely why Rayya had shielded the pirate for a second time, but also knew that neither was ready to accept the fact yet. "Remember this, Balthier, that the more someone loves another, the deeper their hatred will run for that same person."

Balthier stared at his partner for a long moment, not sure he understood what she was saying, before shrugging and twirling his gun around a few times before rising.

"I suppose I may as well see how much of a threat she is to me," he decided with a grin, but Fran only nodded solemnly.

"Yes."

* * *

"Heard you were up and about," Balthier commented, striding into the room. Rayya didn't even turn her head to glare at him, something he took as a bad sign. He moved a little closer to her, noting her weapons slung over the foot of the bed. "I suppose I should thank you," he continued glibly, keeping a close eye on her, but she only shrugged slightly.

"It was a mistake," she told him coldly, keeping her face turned from him. He winced at this, but bravely took a seat on the bed, peering at her.

"Fran told me you need a lot more rest," he began, but she interrupted him.

"Then why you don't you leave and let me rest?" she asked testily.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he began, but was cut off once more by a ringing slap. He felt his cheek slowly, the stinging actually quite painful, and his eyes met Rayya's defiant ones silently. She had fought the pain enough to move to slap him and was half-sitting, her hair hanging around her face and wearing a nightshirt belonging to Balthier – but still just as dangerous wounded, if not more.

"You _bastard_," she hissed, narrowing her eyes until they were little more than slits. "If you were sorry, you'd let me kill you and be done with it."

"And what will you do, once you kill me?" Balthier retorted, lowering his hand. When she was silent, he brought out the medallion once more, offering it to her. "I didn't keep this to sell, obviously," he said quietly. Her gaze rested longingly on the piece of art for a moment before hardening, becoming hateful once more.

Balthier took a moment to look at it as well. The circular frame had vines and buds carved into the silver, while two birds with flowing tails rested in a rising sun in the middle, the pearls serving as eyes and the sun. Although the crest was small, the detail was extraordinary, and had served as Rayya's family crest until her parents had been killed in the war, decimating her house. She had given it to Balthier shortly before their escape attempt as a token of love, and he had no doubt she regretted her decision.

"Will you die?" he asked quietly, meeting her gaze with an even stare. When she didn't answer, he continued. "You'll kill me – and then what will you have left? You'll go and die, or kill yourself."

"It's the only way," she said softly, her voice harsh and dry. "It's the only thing I can do anymore. Thanks to you."

"And I am sorry," he said hoarsely, looking away. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the crest, and a heavy silence lingered between them until he cleared his throat and pocketed the crest once more. "All right, I'll let you sleep," Balthier began, but glanced at her in surprise when he realized she was already asleep. A wry smirk worked its way onto his lips, and he shook his head as he left the room.

"_She wants to kill me – hates me – but falls asleep near me."

* * *

_

Under the influence of potions and several helpful spells, Rayya remained asleep for the next several days, waking intermittently to be given food and water. Fran kept a close eye on the young woman, as her partner refused to go near the cabin. The Viera had a feeling he wouldn't even be on the _Strahl_ if they weren't in the air, and shook her head at Humes' stubbornness.

It was obvious Balthier was restless, as he paced the ship daily and hardly paid attention to what Fran told him of the ship.

"_At least she is asleep,"_ Fran thought to herself on the fourth day, checking over the young woman to see how her wounds were healing. Her back was all but completely healed at that point, with the scar a lingering reminder of what had occurred. A certain order Balthier had given her when he had stalked out of the room confused her still, and she looked down at the sleeping invalid curiously.

"_Keep an eye on her. Let me know the moment she moves. And keep her weapons away from her."_

"What does he think she can possibly do, wounded as she is?" Fran mused, gently turning Rayya onto her back once more and pulling down her nightshirt. The Viera glanced up calmly when the young woman grunted and turned her head to glare at Fran.

"He knows what I'll do," she said grimly, but Fran only eyed her coolly.

"You can barely move," she informed the woman. "You would be wise not to aggravate your wound."

"I'll do what I damn well please, after being put to sleep for days," Rayya told her sharply, pushing herself to a sitting position and wincing. Not backing down, she only stared at Fran, daring the Viera to stop her. The sky pilot only sat back and watched calmly, positive the Hume wouldn't be able to move for much longer. However, she didn't take into consideration Rayya's overall stubbornness, and her eyes widened slightly as the fighter forced her legs over the side of the bed, shaking from the effort.

Fran silently rose to her feet and retreated from the cabin without a backward, knowing where to find her partner. Sure enough, the sky pirate was in the bridge, staring out at the sky and tapping his feet in a rhythm Fran assumed was in his head.

"She is moving," she announced calmly, but the words had a profound on the young man. He stumbled to his feet, caught by surprise, and steadied himself on the back of the seat.

"Already?"

"It has been four days, Balthier," Fran reminded him, and narrowed her eyes. "What is the matter?"

"I just expected more time, that's all," he said coolly, straightening out his clothing and wrapping his usual pirate-y air about him.

"More time for what?" she pressed, but her partner ignored her, out of character for him, and brushed past her, heading out of the bridge. "Balthier!"

"Yes?" he asked innocently, glancing over his shoulder. Fran merely locked eyes with him, and he shook his head slightly before turning and leaving her.

* * *

Rayya had managed to put her pants on, but nothing else other than the nightshirt, and her hair hung over her scarred side as she finished casting Curaga on her wounds, trying to hasten their healing process. She looked around for her weapons, and saw them on the other side, hanging on a hook on the wall.

"Damn showy pirate, mocking me like that," she muttered, gritting her teeth. Despite the rest, potions, and healing spells, the wound had indeed nearly killed her, and many of her internal organs had been damaged, if not completely destroyed. It was only by Balthier's quick cast that they had managed to survive at all, and she winced as pain shot through her body. Glancing down, she frowned when she saw blood begin to seep around and stain the bottom side of her nightshirt, and beads of sweat popped out on her forehead as she made herself move further.

"Just…a little more…" she hissed, doing her best to stand. Hearing fast-approaching footsteps, Rayya glanced at the door with wide eyes, and desperately flung herself off the bed towards her weapons.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Balthier demanded loudly, slamming the door open when he heard a bang. He dipped forward to catch Rayya, who was inches to kissing the floor, and sighed when he saw blood once more seeping from the wound as she gasped for air, out of breath due to her efforts.

She could only glare at him, barely mouthing words at him, and he shook his head as if she was being very difficult.

"Not that I find having a half-naked woman in my lap pleasant, but the blood is going to stain my pants," he informed her calmly, swinging her up and plunking her on the mattress on her stomach, keeping one palm pressed on the palm of her back to keep her from moving as he sat down next to her. "Now, what was the plan? Kill yourself before I got here, or attack me when I came in?" he asked pleasantly, but Rayya snapped her head to the side. Balthier blinked when he saw tears in the corners of her eyes, and narrowed his gaze ever-so-slightly.

Not saying a word, he deliberately began to tear the nightgown open, deftly avoiding getting blood on his fingers as he ripped the remains of the garment off her body and tossing it on the floor in a crimson heap.

"Hm. It _was_ healing nicely, according to Fran, and this just makes it more annoying," he told her calmly, and shook his head when he saw that the length of the wound ran past her hips, where her pants began. He shrugged and coolly slid her pants off her legs, and she gasped indignantly.

"Balthier!" Rayya protested, finding enough air to shriek quite loudly.

"Please. This is hardly the first time I've seen you naked, so stop yelling unless you want to bleed to death," Balthier said impatiently, pulling the blanket up over her legs and letting it rest just below the spot the wound tapered off. Rayya turned crimson and hid her face in the pillow, and Balthier set his jaw grimly. It took several casts of Curaga and Renew to repair the worst of the damage and close the wound a little better than before, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead, breathing heavily from the exertion.

He sat on the mattress beside her for a few minutes in silence, staring at the wall where her weapons hung, mocking him with their promise of death to one of the occupants of the room. Glancing down at the prone young woman, he blinked in surprise when he saw her body shaking, and wondered if a fever had developed and caused her to become delusional.

"Rayya?" he checked, resting his hand on her bare shoulder. A muffled sound reached his ears, and his jaw dropped open despite himself when he realized she was crying, the pillow and her hair still hiding her face. "Why must you be so annoying?" he asked with a sigh. "I have enough on my hands to deal with, thank you."

"Prick of a pirate." The muffled words that reached his ears made him smirk a bit, but it disappeared when clearer sobs escaped from the pillow. He had only seen her cry once before, and the pirate preferred not to dwell on that particular memory.

"Such an annoyance," he muttered, leaning closer and pulling her to his chest, her head resting on his collarbone. Her entire body stiffened at the contact – so much so he was afraid she'd snap her spine in an effort to get away – but suddenly went limp in his arms. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and she pressed into him as if seeking warmth, her legs curled up on his lap and all attempts at modesty discarded.

"And you're a bastard," she whispered, her voice cracking. His left arm encircled her hips, while his right hand stroked her hair, his cheek in her hair.

"Shh…I know."

* * *

I hope he's not OOC...damn it, it's hard to write this! And did you notice they both thought her weapons were mocking them? They're symbolic, in a way. Anyway, please review!


	6. Sixth Movement

Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

I'd like to thank O' Clock . Nine for the review that gave me the inspiration to finish this chapter, and continue with this story period! More drama, funny-happenings between everyone, all that stuff. Enjoy! Just to note, I made up Basiret and all that, since there are no named cities in Rozarria that I could find.

Reviews appreciated.

* * *

Rayya woke the next morning with a painful throbbing all throughout her body, along with a stiff neck. Tilting her head in an effort to figure out why she was in such a bizarre position, she gasped when she realized she was lying naked on top of Balthier.

"I see you're awake," he remarked, glancing down his nose at her with his usual amusement.

"You…" she stammered, clutching the blankets to cover herself. He shrugged in apparent disappointment, but didn't press the matter as he got to his feet.

"I'll go get you a change of clothes, since yours are ruined for the time being," he told her over his shoulder. Striding from the room, he shut the door firmly, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"_That was too close,"_ she decided, turning red in embarrassment. Remaining seated on the bed, her back was stiff when Balthier returned. A sullen expression was on her face, while he had the nerve to grin at her.

"Here you are," he said, tossing her a pile of clothing. "Your boots are in fine condition, which is just as well since none of ours would fit you," he added, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall.

"Aren't you leaving?" Rayya asked pointedly. She blinked when he shook his head and prepared to beat him, pausing when he winked.

"I have to make sure you don't hurt yourself tripping on something," he chided her, shaking his head again. "Now, go ahead, since it's obvious you have no modesty where I'm concerned."

Clenching her jaw tight, Rayya quickly and painfully dressed herself. To her horror, it was a long fitted gown, the sleeves draping to her fingertips and revealing a great deal of shoulder and cleavage in the process. She shoved her feet into her boots as a sort of defiance, but it was no good.

"Green's your color," the sky pirate said, remarking on the shades the gown was in, with gold trim. Glaring at him, she fastened her scimitar securely around her hips as if to make a point. He remained silent on that fact.

"Did you have any destination in particular?" she demanded, as he turned to leave once again.

"We're heading back to the Queen so you can explain yourself," Balthier informed her, and her jaw dropped in amazement.

"What?"

"You were part of an assassination attempt. It's only because you saved my life that you aren't being tortured for information right now," he continued in an obvious manner. "So you can stop gaping at me like a child and come along."

"_You_ can stop ordering me like a child and treat me like a woman," she shot back, stomping after him. He shot a wide smile in her direction, chuckling.

"Every time I do, you try to kill me," he reminded her.

* * *

"Do you not have anything better to do?" Fran asked dryly, not even looking over her shoulder as Rayya paced the cockpit. Balthier had fled for his life once she found out the gown was for the exact purpose of an apology, leaving the Viera to keep her from reopening her wounds.

"Do you have any pants for me to wear?" she snapped back, arms crossed stubbornly across her breast. Her hair hung to her midback and she had draped her white cloak around her, mostly to hide the scars that spread from her face down her throat and collarbone to continue past her right arm where the cloth covered. She did her best to hide in its folds, the hood draped down her back for the moment.

"Unfortunately, not until yours are mended," the Viera remarked calmly, pleased that the Hume was at least not trying to kill her copilot for the moment. Her scimitars still hung off the belt that rested on her hips, but their purpose seemed to have been forgotten for the moment.

"Stupid heroics," the woman growled, continuing her pacing. Fran's ears twitched slightly, the clicking of the woman's heels beginning to grate on her nerves, but there was nothing for it.

"Whose? His or yours?" she asked gently. Thank the gods the clicking stopping, but the Hume's sudden silence was a bit disturbing. Fran risked turning around to see the woman, but she was no longer there. Turning back to her controls, she only shrugged.

* * *

"And what are you doing out here?" Balthier asked curiously, finding the woman out on the deck, her hair becoming hopelessly tangled by the wind as they neared Dalmasca.

"Contemplating whether I should jump or not," she replied dryly, in a tone that made him wonder if she was serious or not. Shrugging it off, he dared to move next to her, bracing himself on the rail with a sigh.

"And are you?"

"And miss the opportunity to abuse you further?" Rayya mocked, a smile gracing her lips that looked suspiciously like the one he had first seen. Something was different about it, but it disappeared before he could figure it out.

"Ah, yes, I forgot that plan," he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "We wouldn't want me to go easily, would we?"

"Of course not," she agreed with a nod. "That would make it all pointless."

"What if it all is anyway? Pointless, I mean," Balthier added, suddenly serious. She paused and looked at him, an almost haunted expression in her eyes. Their gazes met for what seemed to be a long moment before she blinked and looked back as the skyline of the city rose before them.

"Well. Then if it is, I suppose I've lived a very empty life."

* * *

"I understand that you were not the only conspirator," Ashe began, but Rayya broke through the pomp and grandeur with an amused snort.

"Oh no, you have it all wrong. Serving as a bodyguard for Draklor Laboratories was far too boring for my taste. I've spent my entire life plotting your assassination," she informed the Queen, an eyebrow raised. "And of course I botched it horribly. Damn, I knew I shouldn't have saved anyone. And having my own goons pay me? What a silly way to go!"

A long silence followed, during which Balthier clapped a hand over his eyes with a loud groan and Fran shook her head. Ashe and the woman stared at each other, each daring the other to act first. Ashe finally sighed.

"That was mostly a formality."

"Of course. So was that. I needed to get it off my chest."

"Balthier made you do this, didn't he."

"Of _course_."

"So why did you accept their offer of this job?" Ashe asked, suddenly leaning forward with what seemed to be deep interest. "I know it wasn't the money. And what they _did_ offer wasn't nearly enough to kill me."

"I knew I would get a chance at Balthier," Rayya replied honestly, causing the sky pirate to wince. Ashe actually snickered at this before straightening her face.

"You do understand that being involved in an assassination attempt on my person is a rather grave thing," she said soberly. The woman nodded, not really seeming to care. "However, I'm willing to grant a pardon, mostly because you _did_ save Balthier."

"To think, I just have to keep saving him to stay out of prison," the woman muttered, and looked up as the Queen cleared her throat pointedly.

"On one condition," she clarified.

"Of course." Rayya sighed loudly, obviously put out. "And what is it?"

"You show us their hideout. I already know who was involved, but I wish to know where they plotted against me," Ashe informed her firmly.

"They won't be there."

"I know that, thank you," the Queen said shortly, shutting Balthier up for the moment.

"All right," Rayya agreed with a shrug, and all present looked a bit surprised. "What?" she asked in irritation. "I'll do almost anything to stay out of a damn prison, so stop looking so surprised!"

"I suppose it's to be expected." Ashe managed to hide a smile from them for the moment, instead glancing at a guard nearby. "Escort Balthier and his companions to their ship. I want several of my men to go with you," she added.

"Now wait a minute!" Rayya interrupted, standing firm as the others began to stride down towards the door. "I want pants! _Now_!"

* * *

"Are you happy now?" Balthier asked in exasperation, as they strode aboard the _Strahl_. The woman behind him looked extremely smug as she smirked in his direction. Ashe had tactfully had the stubborn woman's clothing repaired when it was obvious she was not going to move until she had been promised said pants.

"Very," she admitted with a smile, obviously more at ease than before. She knew where she stood in her pants – wearing a dress opened up unexplored possibilities of her feminine side that weren't very attractive to her at the moment.

The Dalmascan soldiers Ashe had sent with them – three of them – had already boarded and were found in the cockpit, looking rather disgruntled at their current mission.

"I would appreciate it if you stepped away from my seat," Fran said sternly, giving the men a gaze that promised dire circumstances if they didn't obey her orders. Balthier chuckled as they quickly backed off, retreating to the relative safety of the upper deck.

"Where are we headed, anyway?" the sky pirate asked.

"The Mosphoran Highway. The Northern Skirts," the Hume replied calmly. "I remember, don't worry. It wasn't _that_ long ago."

"I didn't say anything," he said calmly, raising his eyes to the ceiling. It was a bit easier when she didn't talk to him at all, he mused.

* * *

"Nothing," a soldier spat, as they scoured the hideout in a fruitless search to discover documents or any evidence at all of the would-be usurpers' current position. "It's been completely cleaned out."

"Did you think they'd be stupid enough to leave behind evidence?" Rayya asked in amazement, having remained silent as she silently laughed at the soldiers. "Honestly. These men are geniuses in their field. They're not going to spend all this time plotting to let themselves be caught so easily."

"They're wanted criminals now," the lead soldier growled, turning to her angrily. "And you would be too, if you hadn't been lucky enough to get between that man's sword and the pirate," he continued. She paled at that comment, but the man was unfortunate enough to add insult to injury. "For all we know, you planned it just so you'd remain free. Heroics indeed, I bet you were in on it all along and you're going to finish us off as soon as you wheedle your way into the Queen's trust," he spat.

Balthier strode forward angrily, his eyes dark as he glared at the man. Remaining beside Rayya, he seemed to loom over the man despite being only an inch taller.

"Would you care to repeat your concerns to the Queen?" he demanded quietly, gun suddenly twirling in his fingers casually. The man opened his mouth, thought better of it, and stalked back to his search.

Fran watched the entire exchange with interest, her red eyes narrowed as she observed several burnt items that had escaped the notice of the Dalmascans. Bending over to pick them up, she straightened with a noise in the back of her throat.

"Do you know what these are?" she asked no one in particular. The entire group immediately headed over to her and craned their necks to see what the items were.

"They look like burnt paper scraps," another soldier ventured to guess. Rayya peered at them, and blinked when she recognized the handwriting on one of the small scraps.

"That's Lareesh's handwriting," she said out-loud, cringing when all attention was suddenly directed towards her. "My teacher," she explained shortly, fingering her scimitar hilt nervously.

"What was his involvement with these traitors?" the first soldier – the stupid one, as Fran had privately christened him – demanded suspiciously.

"Mahavir just said he had aided them many times, not how," she shot back defensively, bristling at the idea the teacher she was devoted to was part of this plot. "And he recommended me to them," she added reluctantly. "I don't know why," she continued quickly, and Balthier rested a hand on her shoulder in an effort to calm her.

"Relax. They probably just used him like they have everyone else," the sky pirate assured her with a grin, a warning gaze resting on the brazen soldier to shut him up.

"I suppose since we really didn't find anything, we have to report back to the Queen," the third soldier remarked dryly, sounding disappointed. "Including this Lareesh."

"Let me talk to him first," Rayya said quickly, taking a step forward. "I know him better than anyone. I'll talk to Ashe myself once I've finished with him. But he'll answer me."

"If you're so sure, I suppose it can't hurt," Balthier decided with a shrug of his shoulders. "You can let the Queen know we'll be back, won't you?" he asked, beginning to edge from the cavern.

"And how are we suppose to return to Dalmasca?" the first soldier demanded indignantly. Fran was the one to fire the parting shot as the trio strode from sight.

"I hear the chocobos are especially lively this time of year."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Balthier asked, as they flew towards the coordinates Rayya had given them. The trip would take a day or two, depending on how long the pilots stalled. She nodded firmly, to their surprise.

"Lareesh was like another father to me," she admitted. "He taught me almost everything I know now. How to survive, how to live, how to fight. He'll tell me the truth. He's never lied to me, even when he was a real bastard." She made a face, and the pirate leaned forward curiously.

"How so?"

"If you must know, he worked as an assassin several years prior to finding me in an alley," she informed him wryly. "A very distasteful job, as he put it, but it was what he was good at. Every once in a while he would take on another job, to earn money for us. But he never lied."

"People can change," Fran advised her, but Rayya shook her head stubbornly.

"Not Lareesh. Not to me," she insisted, arms folding across her breasts. Balthier sighed loudly and surveyed the woman next to him with something akin to sympathy.

"You may be in for a very big disappointment, Rayya," he said. She merely stared at him for a moment before cracking a rib or two with a high kick, causing him to double over in pain.

"I'll go get you some bandages to help them heal," she said cheerfully, stalking from the cockpit with her usual grace. Balthier could only groan at her back, sounding like he was swearing, and shook her head.

"I am surprised she did not stab you," the Viera remarked dryly. Her partner managed a weak grin in her direction, unable to perform his usual careless shrug.

"I'm not sure if that would necessarily be worse," he moaned, almost positive she had broken a rib.

"I'd be happy to test your theory," Rayya said calmly, returning with a roll of bandages in her hand. She tossed it in his general direction and he managed to catch it with the hand that wasn't holding his side in pain.

"Let's not, and say we did," he agreed weakly. She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. Shaking her head, she retreated from the room without another comment, leaving the pilots in relative peace as Fran was forced to put the _Strahl_ on autopilot to bandage Balthier up.

* * *

"Basiret…" Rayya murmured, as a city of the Rozarrian Empire rose before them. It was a large one, the only one she had ever been to in Rozarria and the home of her teacher. She considered it her true home, having no feelings towards Archadia anymore.

"Very pretty," the sky pirate remarked, moving towards the rail and looking at the cityscape with interest. "I've only been to a few border towns, never in the heart of the country," he added.

"Lareesh was visiting Archadia, about to leave after a job, when he found me in an alley. I had been healed, mostly, but I had no money, no identification…I was unidentifiable anyway, in the condition I was in," she said, no malice in her tone. "He said he saw something in me, a fighter's spirit or something of the sort. So he took me in and returned home to nurse me back to health. And to teach me, when the time came."

"I suppose I owe this man a debt of gratitude," Balthier remarked, but she shot him a cold look.

"Don't say things you don't mean," she ordered snidely. A hurt look crossed his face for a second before disappearing. He only shrugged, keeping a curious eye on the landscape as Fran maneuvered to the Aerodrome. The pair remained silent as they landed, listening as the engines slowly died down to a silent hiss. Rayya didn't move until Balthier took her arm, gently pulling her off-deck.

"Come on, we might as well start looking for him," he suggested. She pulled away easily, beginning to move of her own accord.

"I know exactly where he would be," she informed him stiffly, her cloak swirling around her as she pulled the hood up to hide her face. "And I suggest Fran remain here. Viera are rare here and she's going to attract more attention than I want," she added, glancing over her shoulder before disappearing from the deck. Balthier sighed before striding down to the cockpit, sure he was going to have to convince his partner to remain behind.

* * *

"Busy town," Balthier remarked, keeping close behind Rayya as she stalked the alleys and side lanes to bypass the main crowds of the city. She shot him a dry look over her shoulder, eyes glinting in the sun, but kept silent. The buildings rose high above on either side and the lanes between them proved to be a confusing maze for the sky pirate as he tried to keep track of their path. He quickly found himself lost due to the speed with which the woman in front of him moved.

"Stay there," she ordered suddenly, a scimitar appearing in her hand as a man moved from another alley to stand in front of them. Balthier wasn't sure who she was talking to until he saw the man grin.

"Don't trust me, missy?" he asked. Balthier heard her snort; he was unable to see her expression and imagined it wasn't very flattering.

"Of course not, Devin. Where's Lareesh? And if you think I don't know your men are above us, you're stupider than when I left," she added, amusement laced in her tone.

"All right, you've still got it," he admitted with a sigh, gesturing with his arm to unseen companions. Balthier glanced up, still unable to see anyone, but quickly returned his attention to the two people before him when the man continued. "And we don't know where Lareesh is, for your information. He disappeared a few days ago."

"Is he still in Basiret?" Rayya demanded, scimitar back on her belt. He shrugged carelessly in response.

"Of course. He hasn't left port or crossed borders, so he's here somewhere. I'm sure you can find him, you've always been his favorite," Devin added with a smirk that caused Rayya to laugh, something that sounded to Balthier suspiciously companionable.

"Of course," she repeated. "I was the only one who listened. Now, are you sure you don't know?" she continued, letting her hood fall off her hair and down her back. The man – unreasonably handsome in Balthier's sour opinion – smiled at her and shook his head.

"No, we really don't know," he assured her. "Need somewhere to stay while you look?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder at Balthier blankly. Rayya shook her head, grinning back.

"Sorry, no. It's rather important we find him, so I'll be on my way. Just let them know I'm on the hunt," she added, a bit of a warning in her voice whose meaning escaped Balthier but instantly made him suspicious. Devin nodded, obviously understanding, and Balthier only frowned more. He blinked and found the man gone.

"May I ask who that charming fellow was?" he finally spoke up wryly.

"Devin, a fellow student of Lareesh's," Rayya informed him, something in her tone bothering Balthier more than he was going to admit. "He and his men are assassins as well – they guard Rozarria from any threats the government might not be totally aware of," she added.

"Yes, we all know how well mercenaries behave," he said, rolling his eyes shortly.

"We – they aren't paid. Yes, I was one before I left to hunt you down," she added sweetly. "And we act without the Empire's knowledge. Think of us as very deadly patriots. As for hunting, no one will bother to try to find Lareesh if they know I'm on his tail. Or bother us." She told him this in a bored tone, as if he should already know all this and it was a bother to repeat herself.

"So, you think you know where he is?" Balthier asked, unreasonably annoyed by Devin's appearance. She only smirked in his direction.

"I don't think. I know," she stated, before moving down the lane with a speed he realized was deliberate in an attempt to lose him.

"What an annoyance," he muttered, rushing after her.


	7. Seventh Movement

Summary; Warning; Disclaimer: See First Chapter.

After a bout of writer's block and problems in my private life, I'm glad to say I have finally begun to make progress on the backlog of story updates I need to work on. Enjoy please and thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed and supported me, even when I haven't updated.

* * *

"Damn girl!" Balthier swore, having lost Rayya when she suddenly picked up her pace and shot to the rooftops in a surprising display of agility. He was now left wandering the back alleys of Basiret, completely lost and receiving some strange looks.

"Problem?" a voice asked pleasantly, and the pirate whirled around to see Devin smirking down at him, perched on an outcropping above a door.

"Not at all," he replied, gun in hand.

"Really. It seems to me that she ditched you and now you're hopelessly lost in this maze," the man chuckled, dropping to the ground lightly and approaching Balthier. "No hard feelings, but you'd never be able to keep up with Rayya once she sets her mind to it."

"And you can?" Balthier asked calmly, sensing a challenge in the man's words. The other fighter shrugged and grinned again, no weapons visible this time.

"Maybe," he shot back. "So, want to know where she is?"

"As long as she's not in a body bag somewhere, it really isn't my concern," the other man informed him coolly. "She's on personal business."

"That you're supposed to be in on. Finding out why Lareesh decided to help those aristocrats assassinate the queen, why he told them to find Rayya when he knew she'd never do it – fun stuff like that." Devin waved his hand dismissively at Balthier's suspicious gaze. "Of course we know. We're not stupid. C'mon, I'll take you to her."

"And how do _you_ know where she is?" the pirate demanded grimly.

"When you've spent as much time with her as I have, you learn a few things," the assassin replied over his shoulder, already moving down the alley. "Besides, she's with Lareesh. Of course. Now, are you coming or not?"

Balthier set his teeth, briefly tempted to shoot the man in the back and continue over his dead body. Common sense shoved the idea away in a second, forcing him to follow the man in a sullen silence.

* * *

"Well, I didn't expect this," Devin remarked, pausing in front of a doorway on the corner of a street. Apparently, he sensed something that was eluding Balthier and took a step back. "Here it is, have fun," he said, waving before disappearing even quicker than Rayya had.

"What the hell is going on in this town?" Balthier muttered, striding towards the door and knocking. When he was met with silence, he shrugged and kicked the door in after finding it locked. He managed to take a step forward before freezing.

Rayya stood over the body of a man, which was laying facedown in a pool of his own blood. Her scimitars dripped red onto the floor and she looked down impassively at the body. Glancing up to see Balthier, she moved slightly.

He took a step back involuntarily – the look on her face was not one he wanted to anger at the moment, but she only moved to a curtain and began wiping her blades clean on it.

"He was a traitor to Rabanastre," she said impassively, speaking after the silence hung thick in the air for several minutes. "Mahavir and the others wished to assassinate Al-Cid Margrace and wrest control from the House of Margrace and combine Rozarria and Dalmasca to form an empire to challenge Archadia."

"Well," Balthier remarked, at a temporary loss for words.

"He confessed it all, thinking I'd enjoy having something to fight for against Archadia, my 'hated homeland'," she continued, sarcasm evident in her last words. "He forgot one important thing."

"And may I ask what that is?" he asked carefully, sensing she was on the edge between a killer and a warrior.

"That I have no homeland anymore. Least of all Archadia. And I hardly wish to see Ivalice plunged into such a horrible war. Raising me to defend Rozarria against anything, he could hardly expect me to turn so easily against it."

"I think we should leave soon," Balthier ventured to say, but she turned to look at him blankly.

"There's no rush. I still need to search for any documents regarding this plot. No one will disturb this house – we are well-known in this area," she informed him, scimitars safely hidden away in their sheaths for the moment.

* * *

Balthier stepped over the body in disgust as he reached across to a shelf on the wall behind it. Almost an hour had passed and the blood had stained into the wooden floor, the body beginning to stink a bit. Rayya didn't appear to notice any of it, absorbed in going through the dead man's belongings.

The fact that the dead man was her mentor, a father figure and one she had apparently killed in cold blood, bothered Balthier a great deal. He was unsure how sane she was at the moment and the fact that her comrades, who seemingly knew what had transpired, were staying far away didn't help any.

"Found anything?" she asked, the first words she had spoken in a while. He looked up in surprise, but shook his head.

"Unfortunately, nothing."

"I can't believe he'd think to burn everything when he didn't know I was coming. Unless…Devin tipped him off!" she realized, stiffening. "He brought them all into it!"

"Well, you are mercenaries," he reminded her lightly, flinching as she turned on him.

"For Rozarria! Certainly not for those men to bring war!" she snapped. She abruptly fell silent and her gaze rested on the door, almost expectantly. Balthier turned as well, stepping back from the body quickly as Rozarrian soldiers burst in, weapons drawn.

"Is this the body of Lareesh?" one demanded, and Rayya nodded silently. "Are you the one who slew him?" he continued, receiving another nod.

"Rayya, at your service," she replied with an elegant bow. Balthier noticed how none of the mercenaries seemed to have last names, but the thought was banished as she was cuffed and her scimitars taken.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Lareesh by the order of Al-Cid Margrace. We are to bring you to him immediately," the captain informed her, something which seemed to amuse her to no end.

"Um, anyone mind if I join?" Balthier asked, finally bringing attention to himself.

"And who are you?" the captain demanded, in no mood for interruptions.

"Balthier," he announced, amused by the thought that he had no surname either.

"Were you involved in this?" the captain asked incredulously, having heard of the sky pirate and finding it hard to believe.

"Insofar as finding him, yes."

"All right, you can come with us. Hurry it up, I haven't got all day," the captain ordered, two soldiers dragging Rayya between them, who didn't seem to mind in the least.

* * *

Balthier took in the sights as they were dragged into Al-Cid's villa on the coast, having been thrown into the back of a small aircraft and denied any outside images for several hours. Rayya had remained eerily silent, never a good thing in his opinion.

"All right, up you go," the captain ordered, and the two were unceremoniously pulled to their feet without any notice. Moving as quickly as they could through the main doors, several long passages and turns found them in front of Al-Cid himself, who almost looked amused.

"So, you killed Lareesh," he remarked, handing his sunglasses to a secretary in order to view her better. Noticing Balthier, he barked a laugh. "You pirate! What on earth are you doing here?" he demanded with another chuckle.

"Sort of found myself in it," the pirate replied easily, finding himself released from the grips of the soldiers. Rayya was still bound, and looked up as Al-Cid moved back to her.

"Well?"

"Of course I killed him," she replied calmly. "He was a traitor to yourself, Rozarria, and our own organization."

"Who have all apparently decided to join him in his aiding of Mahavir and the others," the man remarked in amusement. Seeing her shift, he nodded. "Of course I know, you think I'm that ignoring to be unaware of such a plot as that? Come now, you've spared me some trouble and caused a great deal in return."

"Explain yourself," she shot back snidely. The Marquis sighed deeply, looking disappointed.

"With Lareesh dead, I can't follow the movements of your organization properly. Besides, he was my informant on Mahavir and those other power-mad fools. Now I little connection to anything concerning them. Years of planning ruined in a moment," he informed her coolly. "In killing Lareesh, you've acted as a greater traitor than he ever was."

Rayya's jaw dropped in shock at this statement and Balthier quickly stepped forward, hoping to avoid the fate that would await her if she was pronounced a traitor.

"We were hardly aware of such complications," he reprimanded the other man. "All we knew was that Lareesh had sent Rayya to Mahavir to act as an assassin, and in order to be spared imprisonment and execution in Dalmasca she agreed to return here and find out what was going on."

"And now she's going to face imprisonment and execution in Rozarria unless I can find some use for her," Al-Cid muttered, beginning to pace restlessly. "I understand the reasoning behind your actions, but I cannot simply pardon them," he explained, turning to the woman with chin in hand.

"Of course," she replied, her voice ice.

"Perhaps she could serve as your contact?" Balthier suggested. "Let Mahavir think Lareesh was killed by one of his own. Let him know it was Rayya – she killed him because Lareesh betrayed the organization, which now serves Mahavir. Therefore, she acted on his behalf and has proven her loyalty."

"Excuse me!" she protested, taking a step forward before being restrained. "I do _not_ wish to act as a spy of any kind! I'd rather be thrown in prison!"

"Even if it will save not only Rozarria, but the majority of Ivalice as well, from a devastating war?" Al-Cid inquired curiously, the idea obviously presenting opportunities in his mind. "Wonderful thinking, Balthier. I knew you wouldn't grow stupider with age."

"The same could be said of you, Your Grace," the pirate replied dryly, bowing mockingly with a wink towards Rayya. She only hissed in his direction, clearly displeased at the direction the conversation was going. "So, is it a deal? She's your spy, and I'll even go watch her. Everyone knows I can be bought, after all," he remarked.

Al-Cid eyed the other man for a moment with an appraising stare, considering the options before him. Unfortunately, Balthier's suggestion was the best one at the moment. "All right," he decided a moment later. "She will be under your parole, Balthier, so I'll have your head if something goes wrong."

"You just want to see me again," Balthier replied easily, gesturing at the guards. "Well, didn't you hear? Get the chains off, she's under my custody now," he ordered firmly. Stunned, the two men exchanged nervous glances until a subtle cough from their leader brought them to their senses. Several seconds later Rayya found herself a free woman - technically.

"And I don't get a say in any of this?" she demanded, visibly drooping when Al-Cid shook his head. "So what are my orders?" she asked grouchily, crossing her arms over her breasts grimly. He grinned at this, taking a seat and eyeing her.

"Contact Mahavir. I have information I'd like him to know about," Al-Cid ordered, handing her several sheets of paper. She skimmed through them without bothering to ask for permission and her eyes widened.

"Are these what I think they are?"

"Yes. Schedules, dates - designed to make me completely defenseless. And I know anything about that man, he won't believe a word of it. Which is amusing, since it will all be true," the man continued, obviously pleased with himself. "He'll pick a date where I'm heavily guarded, possibly one of these," he said, leaning over to point out several dates which national holidays occurred and the Marquis made public appearances.

"That sounds like him. Nice and public, to make a statement," Balthier said in distaste, ignoring the pointed coughing that now came from Rayya, who folded the papers and put them into her pouch, which had been returned to her in the flurry of unbinding her.

"I'll be expecting attacks on any of these dates. I need the man to make a public move, something concrete that I can move against him. Having Dalmasca behind these efforts is nice, but hardly enough," Al-Cid told them. "He poses a threat to my empire as well and I have plenty of time and manpower to waste on him."

"How do I contact him?" Rayya demanded.

"Ask that thief friend of yours, Devin? He was Lareesh's second-in-command, as far as the information comes to me," the Marquis informed her. "The story should prove enough to convince him to let you see Mahavir. I understand you and Lareesh were not on pleasant terms lately."

"Good point. Fine, I'll be going now. If I'm allowed," she added, sarcasm heavy as she glared at Balthier. The pirate exchanged a glance with the other man, as if to ask what could be done with women these days, before shrugging.

"All right, we may as well get going," he sighed, having hoped for some dinner and possible advance payment. It was obvious the Marquis had no intention of either, however, as he got to his feet and eyed them.

"Well, I'm glad to see that this could be resolved without further bloodshed. I'll have my secretary give you the name of my contact before you leave. Let him know when you need to speak to me," he ordered, the dismissal clear.

* * *

"I really hate you," Rayya informed him, stalking next to him as they headed down a side alley. They had found themselves once again deposited in the middle of the worst section of the city, in the hopes Devin and the gang would come to them.

"I've gotten used to the idea," he replied calmly, gun slung over his shoulder expectantly. It was a dare for anyone to try something and clearly stated that not only was the pirate _not_ in the mood for it, he also wouldn't even try to talk the poor person out of suicide.

Rayya grumbled something before stopping and looking up, her eyes narrowed. "Heads up," she managed to whisper, before Devin and three other men dropped to the ground in front of them. Straightening with ease, the lead thief strode up to them and glared at her.

"I didn't think you'd actually _kill_ him," he informed her curtly.

"He decided to take an offer I had to make him refuse," she replied, her tone just as icy and made even Balthier wince. Devin's frown only deepened with these words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you think I didn't know we serve Mahavir?" she asked bluntly, her tone suggesting she was insulted by the thought. "I went to speak to Lareesh about it. And he informed me he was working for the Marquis against Mahavir - which I suppose you knew."

"I have to admit, you saved us the trouble of silencing him ourselves," the man admitted, relaxing a bit. "And now I suppose you've come to take over our enterprise? Why?"

"I have no alliances," Rayya said, with a smile that was all-too convincing for anyone's comfort. "And I can make a lot of money if this works, not to mention destroying Archadia. Why wouldn't I be in? Assassinating rulers is one thing - _overthrowing_ rulers is something else entirely. Especially if I don't have to concern myself with what happens to them afterwards," she added absently.

"Enlighten me. Why do you think you can waltz in and take charge?" the man asked wryly, but Balthier knew the battle was already won. Rayya had a strange charisma when she wanted to use it and the rage she felt only made it more potent, somehow.

"Because Lareesh intended for me to take over and you know it," she said, fixing him with a frightening smile. "So, do I have to kill you as well to make my point?"

"And what point would that be?" Devin shot back.

"That I'm back."

* * *

"I am surprised they let you return," Fran remarked, meeting the two at the airship that night. Balthier shrugged, while Rayya unconsciously copied the gesture while smirking.

"Balthier does a convincing impression of a money-hungry pirate-for-hire when he wants to," she informed the Viera calmly, striding up the gangplank. "Besides, I'm in charge now. They do what do I say or they die."

"Is she serious?" the pirate asked her partner quietly, meeting with a nod.

"She's out for blood as it is and for once it isn't mine," he told her. "They've betrayed not only her, but her country, for all her talk of having no allegiance. She wants an excuse to get rid of as many as she can before it ends."

"I suppose I can sympathize. And at least you should have a break," Fran added, believing this an unexpected bonus. Balthier heartily agreed, nodding and managing a grin.

"If you don't mind, pilot us back to the Northern Skirts to meet with Mahavir," he said. "I need a good night's sleep after today's escapade."

"He will not be there," Fran began to object, but Rayya appeared from her own doorway and shook her head.

"Yes, he will. His contempt for the governments is well-founded. They searched it once, it was empty - it's safe again. Besides, it's already spelled and equipped for them, so why go through the trouble of doing it all over again?" she pointed out, stifling a yawn. "I'm going to get some sleep, wake me up when we get there. Good night."

The partners stood staring as the door shut, then turned to stare at each for another long moment. Fran broke the silence after blinking, trying to put it nicely and failing.

"Was she nice?" she asked.

"Seems like it," Balthier replied in relief, beginning to recognize the young woman he had known underneath the layers of death and lies. "I'll get some sleep as well, Fran. Let me know if we have any problems."

"Of course. Good night," she said, remaining in the hall for another moment after Balthier retreated to his own room. Shaking her head at the strange workings of humans, she returned to the cockpit and settled herself in, setting the autopilot and getting some rest herself.


End file.
